























































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































































Class 

Book 






















♦ 


PUCK’S BROOM 

































NeW York 

J^offat Yard & Gompany 
1923 



























Xvt 

* 


Printed in Great Britain hy the Riverside Press Limited 

Edinburgh 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER I 

PAGE 

GEORGE ARRIVES 17 

How George Henry came into the world, and what Puck and the 
fairies thought about it. Some wise words about nurses and 
parents. Alexander the Greatest appears for the first time. 

Why George did not believe in the fames. 


CHAPTER II 

GEORGE GROWS UP 29 

All about the birthday party. A particularly jolly tea with 
special games and f reworks. All about the other freworks, 
which were quite a surprise. How the fairies meant to invite 
George to their party, and what the old frog said. 


7 




















Puck’s Broom 


CHAPTER III 

PAGE 

MIDSUMMER EYE 41 

The fairy invitation arrives. George s first pair of trousers. 
Midsummer Eve and the preparations for the fairy party. 

Puck's anger, and the nasty things that the old frog said. 

What happened at the party in the wood. 


CHAPTER IV 

DREAM-MUSIC 53 

George is ill and very cross. His wonderful dream. What 
was it all about ? What the doctor said to him about the 
fairies. “ Perhaps there is and perhaps there isn't." The 
fairies listen to a story. “ To-night!" George hears the 
dream-music. 


chapter v 

THE LAND OF DREAMS 65 

George and Alexander set out in search of adventure. The 
dream-music calls to him again. Can dogs talk ? “ Wish as 

hard as ever you can!" Just like a bit of a story-book! 

The little green gate. The delightful little house in the wood, 
and the tea waiting there for George and Alexander. The 
Land o f Dreams. 


CHAPTER VI 

FATHER TIME 77 

George's house. The twisty-curly paths which led to the sea. 

The old man sitting on the seashore. The hour-glass. “ Are you 
Father Time, please ?" “A stitch in time saves nine." “ Follow 
your fortune, little George ! " And it was Puck after all! 


8 


Contents 

CHAPTER VII 

PAGE 

MORE ADVENTURES 89 

Alexander could really talk, for barking is talking. George 
learns more about the little house. The golden weathercock 
guides them on their way. Everything and everybody can talk. 

This way to Once-upon-a-Time ! 

CHAPTER VIII 

A NICE DRAGON 99 

All about the wonders in this strange country. “ She lives not 
far from here.” Oh, it was ever so much bigger than one 
expected ! A game at e catch-my-tail.' The dragon who went 
to look for his fortune. George is told that he is not real. A 
ride on the dragon s back. 

CHAPTER IX 

THE WITCH 113 

The witch's kitchen. What a witch really looks like. Her 
curious smile. Wonders will never cease! What happened 
when the kettle boiled. “ Will you ride on your catoplane ?" 

George guesses again. It is all very puzzling. 

CHAPTER X 

THE HIGH MOUNTAINS 121 

The tower which came to life. “ Who's e Him,' please ? " How 
witches can read your thoughts. Why the giant was so sad. 

They fly toward the glowing mountains, and George sings a song. 

CHAPTER XI 

TOM TIDDLER’S GROUND 129 

The funny little man mho told, George all about it. “ Ask for 
what you want.” The wonderful meal. Picking up gold and 


9 


PAGE 


Puck’s Broom 


silver. Tom Tiddlers sack. Alexander is George's best 
friend after all. George's fortune grows heavier and heavier, 
then lighter and lighter. The story of the golden sausage. 

CHAPTER XII 

OVER THE HILLS AND FAR AWAY 143 

The path which was like the letter S. At the top of the 
mountain. “Where does that music come from?" The 
little weathercock again. Home once more. What George 
found in his sack. Never throw your jorlune away ! 

CHAPTER XIII 

SIR TRISTRAM 153 

Topsy-turvy thoughts. Fancy a giant with an umbrella! 
George finds a new suit, and Alexander disappears. To the 
Castle of the Thousand Towers. The knight who was bound 
on a quest. They arrive at the castle. 

CHAPTER XIV 

AT COURT 163 

About the wonders they saw in the castle. “ The King bids you 
welcome." George becomes a squire. They see the King. 

Why he was so lonely and sad. What happened to the beautiful 
Princess Fortunata. 


chapter xv 

THE QUEST BEGINS 173 

The quest to free the enchanted princess. “ The weathercock 
knows the way." They lose their way in the great forest. The 
mysterious voices in the air, and how George heard about 
the magician's castle. The greatest adventure of all. 


10 


Contents 


CHAPTER XVI 

PAGE 

THE GIANT AGAIN 181 

On the shores of the black lake. The giant appears again. 

How they came safely across the lake. The giant begins 
another story. The prince and his bicycle. 


CHAPTER XVII 

THE ARRIVAL AT THE CASTLE 189 

The castle on the glass hill. ‘ Whizz ’ once more ! “ Don't 

forget to ask for what you want !" The terrible guardians of 
the gate and how they were utterly vanquished. “ Don t forget 
the password ! " 


CHAPTER XVIII 

WHAT THE WEATHERCOCK SAID 195 

How George learned the password which was a magic charm. 

“ Nobody but you may hear it.” How Sir Tristram and the 
dragon fought, but it jvas not anything to bother about. George 
fares on his quest alone. 


CHAPTER XIX 

PRINCESS FORTUNATA 203 

What happened to George in the magician s castle. A story 
which is like a patchwork counterpane. How difficult it was to 
remember the charm! Alexander barks just in time. The 
Chinese box-trick. The Princess Fortunata ! “ The magician 

is coming ! ” 


11 


Puck’s Broom 


CHAPTER XX 

PAGE 

ANOTHER PARTY 211 

What had become of everybody ? The dream-music again. 

The little house changes. “ George is home at last!" The 
party and supper which George had never heard about before. 

How each of the guests gave him a present , and the beautiful 
Queen gave him the best of all. “ Of course, you've guessed 
it, too ! " 


CHAPTER XXI 

BACK TO THE WORLD 223 

Alexander s bark again. How George and the doctor talked 
about Fairyland. What they all said about George's adven¬ 
tures. How Mother has a little house in the wood, too, and why 
she goes there. How George began to understand why his 
fortune lay right under his very nose. 


CHAPTER XXII 

WHAT THE FAIRIES THOUGHT 235 

How the old frog actually laughed ! Why George Henri/ was 
a wonder-child after all, and why Puck ivas delighted. 


12 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

“ LOOK, THERE’S THE CASTLE ! ” SAID THE KNIGHT, 

POINTING STRAIGHT in front OF him Frontispiece 

THERE STOOD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE HOUSE WITH 

SMOKE CURLING UP FROM ITS CHIMNEYS 70 

THE LIGHT GREW BRIGHTER AND BRIGHTER 122 

AROUND HIM WERE HUNDREDS AND HUNDREDS 

OF TINY FIGURES 220 


13 













/ 



T HIS is a true story. 

It all happened through George 
Henry not believing in the fairies, just 
as some boys but very few girls would do. 

Boys believe in Red Indians and pirates, and 
think fairies are all stuff and nonsense; but they 
are quite wi’ong, for Puck can turn himself into 
anybody or anything he chooses. So if one day 
when you are ploughing the foaming main you 
sight a pirate ship flying the skull and cross- 
bones at the masthead, it may not be a pirate at 
all, but only Puck himself. 

Beware ! If he catches you he will make you 
walk the fairy plank, and you will fall off it 

15 







































Puck’s Broom 

splash! right into Fairyland, and hnd yourself 
turned into a cross old frog or something quite 
as disagreeable. 

This story should be read aloud. You should 
seat yourselves in a ring—that will please the 
fairies—and look happy, even if you aren't as 
happy as you might be. Sour looks curdle 
cream and stories as well. 

“What!” you say. “Dragons and witches 
and giants! Do you expect us to believe in 
them ? ” 

Well, why not ? Do you only believe in what 
you have seen ? All the best books are full of 
wonders like these, and everything wonderful 
must be true. 

So, once again, this is a true story. 

Now turn to the next page and begin ! 


16 



CHAPTER I 

George Arrives 

G EORGE HENRY was born under a 
lucky star, which means that a star 
laughed when he came into the world. 
This happens to very, very few of us ; perhaps it 
is because we are born naughty and ready to be 
stood in the corner at once. 

The fairies knew all about George Henry, 
however, and were delighted, for he was a darling 
boy. Puck brought them the news wrapped up 
in a leaf and packed inside a nutshell in order 
to keep it dry. 

Of course you have heard of Puck. He is the 
little fairy who often plays mischievous tricks 
upon people ; but if children behave nicely he is 
always ready to be their friend. 


B 


17 

























Puck’s Broom 

Santa Claus often pays him a visit about 
Christmas-time in order to find out if any 
children have not been as good as gold during 
the past year. Then the naughty children find 
their stockings empty on Christmas morning, 
and wish and wish—too late—that they had 
thought in time of what Father and Mother had 
told them. 

Well, the fairies danced that night in the 
greenwood to the music of the cricket, the grass¬ 
hopper, and the frog. Puck told them all about 
George Henry and what a very fine boy he was 
going to be. 

George’s father and mother thought so too, 
and Nurse said that he was the finest child she 
had ever seen. Nurses always know. 

The birds and animals soon heard the news 
too, and there was such a chattering, jabbering, 
twittering, squeaking, and I really don’t know 
how to tell you what other curious noises in the 
wood that night. 

This ‘wonder-child,’ as the fairies called him, 
was named George Henry—‘ George ’ after his 
grandfather, who gave him a large silver 
drinking-mug as a christening present, and 
‘ Henry ’ after his father. His mother would 
have liked to add ‘ Alexander ’ as a third name, 
18 



George Arrives 

but it was given, after all, to a new black, woolly 
puppy which came into the house about this 
time ; so that was all right. It is a great pity 
to waste fine names like Alexander. 

George Henry and Alexander grew up 
together and were great friends. Alexander 
learned to walk long before his little playmate, 
who used to toddle along holding on to the dog's 
tail, and very often falling over on top of him 
when his legs grew tired. 

As soon as he got past his toddle-days he 
loved to walk about everywhere and see every¬ 
thing. 

The world was full of the most wonderful 
things ; there was a pigsty in which lived a 
family of little pigs with curly tails. They used 
to squeak “ Good-morning " to him every time 
he passed by. 

He loved their curly tails, and often tried to 
make Alexander's tail like theirs, but it was oi 
no use. It either stood straight up on end or 
else disappeared between his legs. 

It was fine, too, to see the geese marching 
along like soldiers with the old gander at their 
head ; to watch the old hen fussing and cluck¬ 
ing after her little fluffy chicks, who would 
never come home when they were told— 

19 


Puck’s Broom 

“ Like naughty little boys, you know/' said 
Nurse. 

It would take hours to tell you all the things 
Alexander and he saw together—the animals, 
the birds, the trees, the flowers; and they 
all loved him. But he never saw the 
fairies—though they often waved their little 
hands to him ; and Puck sometimes rode on 
Alexander's back through the woods and led 
them to all the prettiest spots—but George 
never knew. 

By and by, when they had grown up a little 
more, and George was in sailor trousers, while 
Alexander had a great big bark which quite 
made you jump the first time you heard it, 
Father and Mother began to wonder what 
George would be when he became a man. 

He loved playing at soldiers, and had boxes 
and boxes full of them which Grandfather and 
Grandmother, uncles and aunts, and other kind 
people gave him from time to time. He played 
with them on the nursery floor, up and down 
stairs until the housemaid, Anne, fell over 
them, on his bed when he ought to have 
been asleep, until Father said : “ Ah, the boy 
will be a general and win great battles when 
he grows up ! ” 

20 


George Arrives 

“ No ! ” answered Mother. “George is born 
for something better than that 

He knew all about everything in the shop 
windows, better than even the people to whom 
the shops belonged. 

“ He will be a great merchant! ” said his 
grandfather. 

“ Pooh ! ” answered Mother. “ Buying and 
selling? My little George was not born for 
that." 

He began to use paper and pencil, and then a 
paint-box. 

“Ah!” said the aunt who had given him all 
these things. “ George will be a great artist 
who will draw and paint most wonderful 
pictures.” 

“Rubbish!” replied Mother. “George was 
born to do something great. He can always 
draw pictures to amuse himself.” 

Then he learned to write, and wrote the most 
wonderful stories which no one except himself 
could understand. 

“ He will be a great writer and write stories 
which everybody will read,” said his grand¬ 
mother. 

“ I never heard such nonsense! ” cried his 
mother, quite vexed. “ Don't I tell you that he 

21 


Puck’s Broom 

is going to do great tilings ? Anybody can write 
stories ; besides, he might sit up late at night 
and catch colds and I don’t know what else if 
he began writing stories ! ” 

Puck was delighted to hear them all guessing 
in this way, and laughed until he fell off the top 
of a big sunflower on which he was sitting. 

“ Oh, dear ! ” he cried. “ How funny these big 
people are ! ” And he flew away into the wood 
to tell the fairies all about it. 

They laughed and laughed for days and 
days, and were never tired of hearing Puck 
talk like Grandfather, Father, Mother, and 
Aunt. 

Even the old bull-frog in the large pond, 
right in the middle of the darkest part of 
the wood, croaked “Ker-e/c!” which was his 
way of laughing. He always had a cold, 
poor fellow, because his feet were never, never 
dry, and nobody ever thinks of giving frogs 
medicine. Perhaps they have neither nurses 
nor aunts. 

And so the days and months went by, and 
presently George was big enough to go to 
school. It was quite a nice school, so Puck 
said, for he went there when he had time. Puck 
liked to listen to the fairy stories best of all, 
22 


George Arrives 

and often sat on the teacher’s shoulder and 
whispered in her ear. You would have been 
surprised and delighted to hear what splendid 
stories she told the children on those days, and 
she could never imagine how they came into her 
head. 

Now, it is a very sad thing to have to 
tell you, but Puck soon found out that 
George did not believe that there were any 
fairies, nor—worse still—that there ever had 
been any. 

One day he actually fell asleep when the very 
best story of all was being told! Puck didn’t 
know what was to be done, and the fairies 
couldn’t help him, for they had never heard 
of a boy like this before. “ Dear me! ” they 
said. “ If there were no fairies how could 
there be any fairy stories ? How stupid of 
little George not to believe in us! We believe 
in him , and he is only a boy and not a fairy 
at all.” 

So Puck set to work to think what to do, and 
went wandering through the woods, asking all 
the birds, all the beasts, and even the insects if 
they knew what to do with a boy called George 
who didn’t believe in the fairies. None of them 
were able to help him. An old horned beetle 

23 


Puck’s Broom 

said, “ I should pinch him !" but Puck didn't 
think that pinching was of much use. 

When George went to bed, Puck used to sit 
on his pillow and tell him the most beautiful 
dreams, but George forgot all about them when 
he woke up. What can one do with a boy like 
that ? 

Nurse, however, just nodded her head wisely 
and said : “ Wait and see ! ” There are thousands 
of nurses saying the same thing all over the 
world. They just know what will happen later 
on, and that is all. They never tell anyone else. 
If they do they are not real nurses, and should 
be given a month's notice. 

George's nurse was what people called a ‘ com¬ 
fortable ' person. She was big and round, and 
her shoes creaked just now and again—quite a 
lady-like creak. She did not often smile, but 
when she did you felt sure the sun was shining 
and that the world was a jolly place to live in. 
Nurses — real nurses — know everything ; very 
likely they have been taught by the fairies, but 
if you asked your nurse this question she would 
never tell you. Oh no ! 

Nurse always spoke of Alexander as “that 
black imp," but he knew how to coax a piece 
of biscuit from her whenever he wished. He 
24 


George Arrives 

used to sit down on the nursery hearth-rug 
with his head on one side, thump gently 
with his tail on the floor, and bark very 
gently, “ Wuff! Wuff!” without stopping, for 
ever so long. 

It must be a grand thing to be a dog like 
Alexander whenever one wants a biscuit. 

George was very busy just now, for he had 
made up his mind to be an aviator. An aviator 
is a man who flies up in the air on a machine 
which looks something like a large bird, and 
makes a noise like ever so many cats quarrelling. 
It flies straight up, and then before you can say 
“ Knife ! ” it is out of sight. There are no tunnels 
or stations, no tickets such as you have on the 
railway. You just go straight ahead until you 
get there. 

No wonder George didn't think about the 
fairies when his head was full of such wonderful 
things. 

But Father said : “ Time enough to fly when 
you are grown up." 

Mother said: “ An aviator ? No, George, 

darling! You can come for a ride in the 
carriage with me this afternoon." 

And Nurse said—of course, the same as before. 

And so the months and the years went by ; 

25 


Puck’s Broom 

George grew bigger, Alexander grew fatter? 
Nurse grew more and more comfortable, and 
Puck grew crosser and crosser. At last, one 
day, everybody woke up and said: “ George 
Henry is eight years old to-morrow ! ” 



26 


THE FAIRY RIDE 

Have you seen the fairies ride 
All down the magic glen ? 
Green jackets, red caps, 

Teeny, weeny men! 

Hearken to their music, 

The winding of the horn ! 
Ta-tcin-ta-ra-ta ! 

A fairy boy is born ! 

Mind you keep the doors shut 
When they’re riding by, 
Lest you get some fairy dust 
In your little eye. 

If that were to happen, 

In a flash you’d be 
Changed into a fairy. 

Goodness gracious me! 

Green jackets, red caps, 

See them trooping past. 
Hear their bridles jingling— 
Shut the door fast! 


27 




CHAPTER II 

George Grows Up 

I T was not long before everybody knew all 
about it. George was going to have a 
party 1 Not an ordinary party, but a 
splendid one. There were invitations for all 
George's friends, both boys and girls; for 
Grandfather, Grandmother, uncles, aunts, and 
all kinds of grown-ups who could help to hand 
round the tea and cakes and let off fireworks 
when it grew dark. 

George was quite ready to have the fireworks 
first thing in the morning as soon as he woke 
up; but Father said, “No!" Mother said, 

29 













































Puck’s Broom 

“No !” and Nurse said nothing, but just looked. 
Nurses don't like fireworks, though they some¬ 
times pretend they do. 

Everybody—except Alexander—must have 
been getting ready for this birthday for weeks 
and weeks, for when George woke up a little 
earlier than usual on the great day there was 
quite a stir and bustle in the house. The post¬ 
man could hardly carry his bag along the path 
up to the front door. It was packed full of 
presents. 

Alexander had a big red silk bow fastened 
round his neck, and nearly fell all the way down¬ 
stairs through twisting his head round to try 
and bite it off. Even Nurse, for once, almost 
ran, she was in such a hurry. 

It is a wonderful thing to have a birthday if 
you have enough kind uncles and aunts to help. 
Uncles must be strong enough to carry you on 
their shoulders like a never-tiring horse, then to 
change into bears which you can shoot at, and, 
almost before they have finished dying under 
the sofa, they must be ready to change into 
anything else you may want. 

Aunts are best when they smile all the time 
and bring out sweets and chocolates from some 
hidden part of their dresses, like conjurers, just 
30 



George Grows Up 

when you are tired and want to rest for a 
minute. Alexander liked aunts, and was always 
ready to beg for biscuits even when he met one 
of them in the middle of the street or in a shop. 
Uncles were all right, but rather tiring. Dogs 
don't always want to play games. 

Well, the number of presents was perfectly 
delightful, and everybody had sent exactly what 
George wanted. But in the middle of breakfast 
he looked up suddenly and said: “ It's Alexander's 
birthday too. Hasn't he got any presents ?" 

“What?" said Father, turning quite red in 
the face and forgetting that he was holding a 
piece of bacon on the end of his fork. 

“ Dear me !" said Mother, looking as if she 
were going to cry. “ Oh, where's Nurse ?" 

Nurse appeared in the room at once, and when 
she heard that it was Alexander's birthday, do 
you think that she said “What?" or “Dear 
me?" Not at all. 

She just went to the door and called: 
“ Alex—ander !" 

Alexander arrived with a rush and a bang, 
looking as if nothing in the world would ever 
surprise him. 

“ Alexander," said Father solemnly, “ I have 
great pleasure in telling you that this is your 

31 


Puck’s Broom 

birthday. I wish you many happy returns of 
the day!" '' -pi 

“ Wuff!” replied Alexander, wagging his 
tail, and looking at Father as much as to say: 
“ Don't keep me waiting any longer. You know 
how hungry I am ! " 

Father smiled, and suddenly in his hand he 
held a most beautiful silver collar, on which was 
written Alexander s name. He took off the red 
bow and put the collar round Alexander's neck. 
Alexander said nothing, but sat and waited. 

Mother wished him 1 many happy returns' 
too, and then—where had she hidden it?—there 
was a pretty tin of sugary biscuits with < A ' 
printed on the top. 

“ Wu — tiff! said Alexander, and wagged his 
tail so hard that he nearly fell over. 

George looked quite pleased. “ I’m so glad 
he wasn't forgotten," he said ; “ it didn't seem 
fair for me to get such lots of things, and 
Alexander nothing at all." 

It was soon four o'clock, and the guests began 
to arrive, first in ones and twos and then in 
threes and fours. 

It was a lovely summer day, and after games 
in the garden there was a Punch and Judy 
32 


George Grows Up 

which everybody liked, especially Father and 
the uncles. Alexander sat quite still until 
Punch's dog appeared, and then he had to be 
led indoors and shut up, for he grew quite fierce, 
and was just getting ready to bite Punch's nose off. 

Punch without a nose wouldn't be a Punch at 
all, and then the man who keeps him would never 
be able to go to parties again. But Alexander 
never thought about that. 

By this time everybody was ready for tea, 
which was served in a large tent in the garden. 
On the middle of the table stood a very large 
cake stuffed full of plums. Nurse had made 
this with her own hands, and there were no 
cakes like hers. One could eat two and even 
three large-sized slices and scarcely feel a little 
bit uncomfortable afterward. 

No one could eat any of this cake, however, 
until most of the white and brown bread and 
butter—you were allowed to have jam spread 
on it—scones, tea cakes, cream cakes, ice cakes, 
jam puffs, tartlets, and oh! heaps of other 
things had disappeared. Then Father stood up 
with a large knife in his right hand, and made a 
little speech. Everybody clapped their hands 
and laughed—even the uncles and aunts who 
had had no tea at all. 


c 


33 



Puck’s Broom 

George sat in a high chair looking as proud as 
a king. Kings always look proud, and queens, 
their wives, look proud too, but in quite a nice 
way. If you have ever seen them riding by in 
a carriage drawn by six white horses in gold 
harness you will understand exactly why you 
cannot really look proud in a cab with one horse, 
or in a taxi-cab which flies along with a fizz and 
a bang. You only just have time to get the 
eighteen pence ready for the driver. If you 
were a king you wouldn't ever have to do that. 

After the speech George cut the cake and 
Father helped, so that everybody, grown-ups 
and all, had a slice. 

Then George had to speak. “ Thank you very 
much/' he said. “ I hope you've enjoyed the 
party. I know I have, and so has Alexander. 
Now we're going to have the fireworks !" 

It was not dark yet, so there were games and 
races, followed by a little rest, during which 
Mother told them stories. Then Uncle William, 
the funny man of the party, gave an imitation 
of all the animals in a farmyard, which was even 
better than the real thing, of a railway train 
coming out of a tunnel, and, last of all, of Father 
getting up in the morning. 

Father laughed so much at this that Mother 
34 


George Grows Up 

had to pat him very hard on the back for several 
minutes. Uncle William was not allowed to tell 
the story of the two cats on the wall, because 
Alexander did not like cats—even cats which 
weren't real. 

At last it was time for the fireworks, and all 
the children seated themselves at one end of the 
garden and waited patiently. Suddenly bang! 
up went a red star, then a green one ; then 
showers and showers of little green ones. Then 
bang! bing! bang! fizz! crack! jumped the 
crackers. Rrrrrrr! whirled the Catherine 
wheels, slowly at first, then fast, faster, and so 
fast that they made your eyes quite sore watch¬ 
ing them. 

Hiss! Whizz! Bang ! went a rocket with 
a tail as long as from here to the end of the next 
street. Higher and higher it flew, until, all of a 
sudden, just as you thought it was quite out of 
sight, it burst, and—all!—hundreds of little stars 
lit up the sky and made it look lighter than even 
the lightest day. 

But there was something better to come still. 
At the end of the shrubbery a light shone faintly 
and then went out. Then shone more and more 
lights, until you could see that great big letters 
as tali as yourself were growing up. And then 

35 



Puck’s Broom 

—all of a sudden—in a blaze of light there was 
spelt out for all to see, George. 

Such crackings and bangings, such shouts and 
cheers from all over the garden you never heard, 
nor anyone else either. 

That was a real surprise. 

Just as people were getting ready to put on 
their coats and say “ Thank you very much for 
your delightful party/' another light shone out 
over the high tree near the garden gate. 

“ Hullo ! " said Father. “ Hullo, what's this ? 
A surprise from Uncle William, I expect," and 
he stood still and watched. 

Brighter and brighter grew the light, longer 
and longer, until it looked like a great tongue of 
fire. Then it swept along over the trees, under 
the trees, in and out and round about, until it 
looked as if thousands of little lanterns were 
shining everywhere. 

“ It sounds as if there were music somewhere, 
quite far off," said Mother. “Well, I don't 
know what it can be." 

Uncle William, who was supposed to know 
all about it, said that he hadn't done it, but 
nobody believed him. 

Little by little the lights died out, and then 
it was time to go home to bed. 

36 


George Grows Up 

George was quite sleepy, and was very glad 
to find his head resting on a soft pillow. After 
he had said his prayers and said “ Good-niglit, v 
he called out to Nurse: “ Do you know who 
made those jolly little lights, right at the end 
of the fireworks ? ” 

Nurse stood silent for a moment: “ Perhaps I 
do ; perhaps I don't," she replied. 

“ Oh," said George, “ tell me, then!" 

“ Good-night, Master George." Out went the 
light, and if George hadn't been so sleepy and 
tired he might have found out all about it then 
and there ; but that would have meant that all 
kinds of things which were just going to happen 
wouldn't have happened at all, which would 
have been a pity. 

Puck sat cross-legged on an old toadstool, and 
the fairies danced all round him in their magic 
ring. 

“ It tvas a jolly party!" he said to the old 
frog. “ You ought to have been there." 

“ Ker-ek / " replied the frog. “ My throat was 
rather sore to-night, so of course I could not go. 
I hear there were fireworks." 

All the fairies stopped dancing and burst out 
laughing when they heard him say this. 


37 


Puck’s Broom 

“ What are you laughing at?” he croaked. 

Puck jumped off his stool and turned head 
over heels. 

“ Tell him ! Tell him ! ” they all cried out. 

“ Well,” said Puck, “we were all there. The 
fairy music band played ; the fire-flies and glow¬ 
worms made beautiful fireworks, more beautiful 
than the grown-ups had bought—and no one 
knows who did it. What fun ! ” 

“ Ugh ! ” said the frog. “ I don’t see anything 
to laugh at.” 

“ Don't you?” said Puck. “Well, wait until 
we have our party and invite George.” 

“ He won't come,” croaked the frog. 

“ Won't he?” replied Puck. “ Won’t he?” 



38 


A-TISH-OO ! 


On, who would be an old, old frog, 
With a cold in his head 
And no cosy bed ? 

A-tish-oo ! 

Oh, who would be a cross old frog, 
Who grumbles and growls 
All night to the owls ? 

A-tish-oo ! 


Oh, who would be a rude old frog, 
Who never says 4 please,’ 

Does nothing but sneeze ? 

A-tish-oo ! 

Oh, who would be a wet old frog, 
Who lives, as a rule, 

In a deep, deep pool ? 
A-tish-oo ! 


Oh, who would be a queer old frog, 
As hoarse as a crow ? 

Would you ?—Oh dear, no ! 

A-tish-oo ! 

















CHAPTER III 

Midsummer Eve 

I N a few days’ time it would be Midsummer 
Eve, and then the little fairies have a dance 
and supper all to themselves. Very few 
people have ever been there, and even fewer 
know anything at all about it. Only the very 
best people receive invitations, and, of course, 
there are never very many of the best people in 
the world. 

It is very hard indeed to be good, but—oh 
dear!—to be best! Why, it means being good, 
and going on being good, until you are so 
good that Mother thinks something must be 
the matter with you and sends for the doctor. 


41 






























Puck’s Broom 

Anyway, the fairies sent George an invitation, 
but he didn't understand what it meant, for it 
was written on an oak leaf which Puck blew in 
through the bedroom window. George thought 
it was only a common leaf and never picked 
it up. 

“Well, has George answered his invitation 
yet?" said the old frog to Puck a few days 
before the dance. 

“No," replied Puck, “he hasn't, but he's 
coming." 

“Coming, indeed!" croaked the frog, who 
had just caught a worse cold than ever. 
“Well, I'll believe it when I see him, and 
not before." 

“All right," said Puck. “You'd better go 
home, or else you won't be able to come to the 
party with that cold of yours." 

There was such a bustling, a running about, a 
flying here and a flying there in the wood all 
day and all night getting ready for Midsummer 
Eve. Such a brushing and combing, such a 
sewing and darning, polishing and scrubbing, 
and I don't know what else ! Such a baking 
and brewing, cooking, stewing, and such nice 
smells ! Puck carried bits of these away in his 
pocket, and George had the most delightful 
42 


Midsummer Eve 

dreams of all the things he liked best to eat and 
drink. 

Nurse smiled when he told her, and Alexander 
listened with his head a little on one side, hoping 
to hear the word ‘ biscuit' or 4 bone/ His idea 
of a really good party was a pile of bones and 
biscuits, with leave to eat them on the drawing¬ 
room carpet. This is just as good fun as waiting 
outside on the stairs for the jellies and creams 
when there is a dinner-party at your house. 

George had already forgotten about aero¬ 
planes, and was very proud of being in trousers. 
When he first wore them he could not help 
looking down almost every minute to see if they 
were still there. The worst of wearing trousers 
is that you have to be so careful. Dogs like 
Alexander will jump and bump against them, 
leaving dirty paw-marks, just when you are 
not looking. Directly one begins to grow up 
there are really such a number of things one 
must think about. 

George used to stand with his legs wide apart 
and his hands in his pockets like Father, until 
Nurse sewed the pockets up tight one night 
when he was fast asleep. Trousers without 
pockets are like jam tarts without jam. 

George said nothing when he found it out, but 

43 


Puck’s Broom 

in the garden after breakfast he remarked to 
Alexander : “ When I grow up —really grow up 
—I am going to have pockets all over me, just 
as many as ever you can imagine. There will 
be so many that no one will ever be able to sew 
them up again/' 

Alexander nodded. After all, he might be 
able to keep his bones in a suit with as many 
pockets as that! 

Midsummer Eve came at last. Everything 
was ready in the wood ; even the old frog's cold 
was better, though he was still rather hoarse. 
The fairy ring was as smooth as velvet, and the 
fairy band had learned quite a number of new 
tunes. 

Puck was as busy as he could be, and when¬ 
ever there was a moment to spare he brought 
another piece of moss for the seat which he had 
been making for George. It was right in the 
middle of the wood in a little open space with 
high trees all round it. Whenever the wind 
came the trees rustled softly, and it sounded 
just as if they were putting their heads together 
and whispering secrets. Most of these trees 
were very old ; so old that they had grown quite 
bent, and their long, twisted boughs hung down 
almost to the ground. 

44 


Midsummer Eve 

On Midsummer Eve the moon always shines 
brightly, and lights up the fairy ring with a soft, 
silvery light. No one knows whether Puck asks 
her to do it, but if you will look out of your 
window—if you can wake up at the right 
moment—you will see for yourself that it is 
quite true, for so many of the best things always 
happen while we are fast asleep in bed. 

George went to bed as usual. Alexander 
flopped down on the mat outside the door and 
curled himself up. One by one the lights in 
the house went out, and soon everybody was 
fast asleep. It was as still as still can be. 

Far, far off sounded the first notes of the fairy 
music. Alexander pricked up one ear for a 
second, then sighed and fell fast asleep again. 

George turned over in his bed and began to 
snore. Puck flew in through the half-open 
window and rested for a moment on his pillow. 

“ It's all ready, George," he whispered. 
“ We're only waiting for you !" 

George snored a little louder. 

“ George !" cried Puck, “ George, come along ! 
Don't be late ! " 

George was dreaming. He was dreaming 
that he was in school saying the multiplication 
table, twice times, three times, and some of four 

45 


Puck’s Broom 

times. He actually wasn't thinking about the 
fairies at all! 

Puck sat for a moment thinking what he 
should do ; then he flew out through the window 
and back to the wood. 

The multiplication table, indeed ! No one 
ever thinks of such things on Midsummer Eve. 
It is a time to dream of dancing, music, light, 
laughter, the wind in the trees, the tinkle , tinkle 
of water in the little brooks, the song of birds— 
they are all awake then—of almost anything 
else, but not twice times two. 

The fairies were just beginning to dance when 
Puck flew into the middle of the ring, and he 
looked so angry that they all stopped, wondering 
what could have happened. 

He could say nothing at first but “ twice 
times four is ten," which is nonsense, but he had 
never learned his tables and never wanted to. 
He said this over and over again, just as if it 
were a rhyme, and they all listened, though they 
did not understand a bit what it meant. 

“ Oh, ho ! ” said the old frog, who was sitting 
there puffing himself out as if he were trying to 
turn himself into a toy balloon. “ Oh, ho ! I see 
what it is. George won’t come after all. I told 
you so. Oh, ho ! Oh, ho ! ” 

46 


Midsummer Eve 

“ For shame ! " all the fairies cried out. “ For 
shame! Nasty old thing! You're quite glad 
he isn't coming." 

Puck sat with his head in his hands, thinking 
and whispering to himself, “Three times four 
are seven," which was worse than ever. 

The fairies felt so sorry for him. They all 
came and sat round him in a ring with their 
little heads in their hands. They did not 
know why he was doing this, but they did 
it to cheer him up. The old frog sat puffing, 
just as if some one had wound him up like a 
clockwork toy and he wasn't able to stop. 

After a long time Puck looked up and said : 
“Well, it's no use waiting. He won't come 
to-night." 

The old frog was so pleased when he heard 
this that he opened his mouth to say “ I told 
you so," but he had puffed himself out to 
such a size that he fell over backward 
suddenly into a pool with a great splash, 
and never spoke another word for the rest 
of the evening. 

“No, he won't come," said Puck, “it's no 
use waiting. I always thought he would learn 
to believe in us after a time, but he won't, he 
won't/" And he spun himself round on one 

47 


Puck’s Broom 

leg like lightning a hundred times without 
stopping. He was really angry ! 

The fairies all spun themselves round on one 
leg too, but this made them so dizzy that 
they fell over one another in heaps, and for 
a few minutes they really didn’t know whether 
they were on their heads or their heels. At 
last they were all right side up again, 
wondering what it was all about. 

“ Let's go on with the dance now! ” cried 
Puck. “ I'll tell you all about it to-morrow." 

The fairy music began again; the fairies 
danced round the ring, and all the animals in 
the wood came out to watch them. The moon 
looked on with a smile ; she was always 
very fond of the fairies, and never minded 
shining a little longer than usual if the fairies 
wanted to go on dancing. 

At midnight they were ready for supper. 
First of all they had—but wait a bit!—it is 
not time to tell you about that yet, with 
George snoring away in bed, and saying his 
tables over and over to himself. 

After supper they danced again, and acted 
a little play in which they pretended to be 
grown-up people at a party. 

48 


BLOW-NOSEY 


From gossamer and flowers’ bloom 
The fairies weave 
Their dainty little handkerchiefs, 

I do believe. 

And so . . . and so . . . 

Whene’er they want to blow their noses 
They merely sniff their fragrant posies. 

’Tis different quite for you and me, 

For all of us, 

Who aren’t grown up—for Nurse always 
Makes such a fuss. 

Oh dear ! Oh dear ! 

She says fm in complete disgrace 
If I forget to wash my face. 

And noses, so she always says, 

Were made to blow. 

She’s very old and very wise, 

And ought to know. 

I wish ... I wish . . . 

Sometimes I hadn’t any nose. 

And yet I must have one—so I suppose. 


51 



CHAPTER IV 

D ream-Music 


W HETHER it was the cakes or the 
fireworks, no one ever knew. Father 
said that it must have been the 
cakes. Nurse thought it was the fireworks. 
The doctor, who came in a little motor-car 
with just room for himself inside, shook his 
head and looked very solemn. 

George was not well and was kept in bed. 
The doctor sent a large bottle of medicine, 
and Nurse shook the bottle very hard be¬ 
fore giving George two large tablespoonfuls. 
Alexander sat at the end of the bed and 
looked on. Perhaps he thought he ought to 

53 
















Puck’s Broom 

have some medicine too, for he was always 
ready to taste anything, and even a tin of boot 
polish didn't seem to disagree with him. There 
were very few things that he hadn't tasted. 

The doctor came every morning for four 
days, and every morning his little motor 
puff-pujfed outside the garden gate whilst 
he went upstairs into the bedroom where 
George was, and said: “Well, and how are 
we this morning ? A little better, eh ?" 

But George always said that he felt a little 
worse, and wanted to get up and go out for 
a walk with Alexander. He was cross with 
everybody, and at last Mother thought he 
must be really ill. 

She sat by his bed and read stories to him ; 
sometimes he listened, and sometimes he just 
kicked his legs about in bed and said : “ Oh, 
do let me get up. I hate being in bed." 

“You must be good, George dear," said 
Mother, “ or else you will never get well." 

It was no good. George wouldn’t even 
listen to Nurse now, so it was not a bit of 
use talking. 

He wouldn’t take liis medicine ; he wouldn’t 
lie quiet. He did everything he ought not to 
do. Even Alexander looked as if he would 
54 


Dream-Music 

like to cry, and never once wagged his tail. 
This showed how sorry he felt for himself and 
for everybody else. 

At last George was so tired that, as it was 
growing dark, he fell asleep. Nurse sat by 
the side of his bed with a large pair of spec¬ 
tacles on, knitting a pair of stockings. 

As fast as she knitted stockings for George 
he wore them * out, but she didn't seem to 
mind. What the boys do who haven't got 
nurses it is difficult to say. Think of all the 
stockings there must be in the world with 
holes in their heels and toes and knees! 
It was quite quiet. Nurse sat as still as 
still could be; if her fingers hadn't been 
moving all the time you would have thought 
she was fast asleep. 

It grew darker and darker, until at last the 
moon came out from behind a cloud and shone 
through the window. It was just the kind of 
night on which the fairies love to be dancing in 
the wood. Perhaps they were. 

“ What a splendid sleep you’ve had, darling," 
said Mother, as she kissed George next morning. 

George sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. 
“I've had such a dream !" he began. 


55 


Puck’s Broom 

“Won't you tell me all about it?" asked 
Mother. 

George thought for a long time, then shook 
his head. “ It s all gone again," lie said. “ I 
can only just remember that 1 went for a long 
walk with Alexander, and we came to such a 
wonderful place. I think I met Nurse there, 
but she looked quite different . . . and yet she 
was just the same." 

Nurse smiled. 

“ Were you really there?" asked George. 

“ Perhaps," she replied. “ Now it's time for 
your medicine." 

By the time he had finished his medicine 
George had forgotten about the dream, but he 
kept remembering it in bits all day long. 

Alexander looked delighted when George was 
allowed to get up and come into the garden. 
Perhaps he knew all about the dream, for he 
would often stop when he was digging up a 
bone, and look as if he were trying to remember 
something. 

Dogs have splendid dreams sometimes. 
When they give short little barks in their sleep 
they must be chasing cats. But what do cats 
dream about ? 

The doctor did not look at all solemn to-day. 
56 


Dream-Music 

He sat in the garden and talked to George 
about motor-cars and aeroplanes. But George 
was all the time trying to remember his dream, 
and told the doctor little bits of it whenever he 
remembered. 

“ Do you believe in fairies?" George asked the 
doctor suddenly. 

“Fairies?" said the doctor. “Well, you 
believe in them, don't you ?" 

“ I don't know," replied George. “ I think 
my dream last night was about fairies, but they 
weren't very like the fairies in the books I read. 
Is there a veal Fairyland ?" 

“ Well, you see," replied the doctor, looking 
very solemn again, “you really ought to go 
there and find out." 

“ But hoiv can I find out," asked George, “ if I 
don't know whether there is a Fairyland or not ? 
How can I find the way there ?" 

The doctor scratched his head. “Well, I 
expect Nurse or Mother will tell you all about 
it," he said. 

“ Nurse always answers, 4 Perhaps there is and 
perhaps there isn't.' I don't believe any of you 
really know at all," cried George. 

The doctor shook his head, looked as if he 
were going to say something, then smiled and 

57 


Puck’s Broom 

said : “ Perhaps !—that's just what we've all 
got to find out about a great many things, 
George. If you really want to find the way 
there, I expect you will. Only you must wish 
hard, as hard as ever you can!", and with a 
laugh he went down the garden path, stepped 
into his motor, and puff-puffed away. 

“ I don't believe there are any fairies," said 
George, with a stamp of his foot. “ It's just 
silly nonsense, and they only say that there are 
fairies to tease me." 

Puck was sitting on a toadstool watching the 
little fairies, who were having a flying race. 
They flew round and round and up and down, 
and the colours of their little wings were as 
beautiful as the most beautiful rainbow. Maybe 
the rainbow is made out of fairies' wings. 

When they were tired they all fluttered dow 7 n 
to the ground again and sat down on the grass 
in a ring. They love to sit like this, because 
most of the good games are played when one 
sits round in a ring. The fairies are never 
tired of playing games. Even their work is 
play to them, and so they never need to go to 
school. 

No one ever heard of a fairy schoolmaster or 

58 


Dream-Music 

schoolmistress. Tf there were such people, they 
would be playing all the time, and so they 
couldn’t possibly be teachers. 

They had forgotten all about George, for they 
really believed by now that there was not a boy 
of that name at all. When grown-up people 
forget about the fairies, is it because they 
are getting old and thinking about what they 
should eat and drink, and what clothes they 
should wear ? The fairies know that grown-ups 
do these silly things, and don’t mind, but 
children ought to know better. The fairies 
were not playing a game just then. They were 
listening to Puck, who was telling them a story. 
It is hard to guess what the story was about, 
for the fairies do not have fairy stories. What 
seems so wonderful to us is only what happens 
to them every day, and so whoever tells a story 
in Fairyland must think of something quite 
different. 

They enjoyed the story very much, for they 
laughed and clapped their hands, and even the 
old frog forgot his cold. 

“To-night! To-night!” they all cried when 
Puck had finished, and then they all danced 
round and round so fast that it would have hurt 
your eyes to look at them. 


59 


Puck’s Broom 

The moon shone more brightly than ever that 
night. The sky was covered with bright, 
twinkling stars, and a soft, warm breeze rustled 
through the tops of the trees in the wood. 

George would have loved to go for a walk, but 
he was tucked up safely in bed, and Alexander 
was lying on the mat outside his door. Nurse 
had left him alone for some time, and he couldn't 
get to sleep. He wanted to dream again and 
go back to that wonderful country of which he 
remembered so little. 

He tossed about on his pillow, wishing that he 
were outside in the garden or anywhere except 
in bed. He could hear the old clock outside on 
the landing, tick , lock , tick , tock , and now and 
again Alexander gave a little bark which showed 
that he was fast asleep and dreaming. 

Suddenly he heard another sound. It seemed 
to be far off, but little by little it sounded nearer 
and nearer. 

“ It's just as if somebody were blowing little 
trumpets," thought George to himself. “ I 
wonder where it can be ?" 

The sound of the music floated in the air, died 
away, and then, more sweetly than ever, echoed 
and echoed until it seemed as if it might indeed 
be fairy music. 

60 


Dream-Music 

44 I must get up and see what it is,” said 
George. 44 It might be soldiers, though they 
don't seem to have a drum." 

He jumped quickly out of bed and went to 
the wdndow. There was nothing to be seen, not 
even a shadow on the lawn. 

44 That's very queer," thought George. 44 1 
wonder that Alexander hasn't heard it." 

After waiting for a few minutes he got back 
into bed, and scarcely had he laid his head on 
the pillow when far, far away sounded the fairy 
music. 

44 Lovely ! Lovely !" murmured George. 44 It 
must come from that country I dreamed about 
last night." 


61 





HOW TO SEE THE DAIRIES 


If you would view the fairy rout, 

And see them dance and twirl about, 

Then turn your jacket inside out. 

But hush ! Be silent—not a sound ! 

They’ll pinch you—yes !—if you are found 
Without their leave on fairy ground. 

They’ll pinch you black, they’ll pinch you blue, 
Green, yellow, red, and every hue! 

Remember what I’m telling you ! 


* * * 


And 
don't run 
round the fairy 
ring in the wrong 
direction —Widershins— 
the opposite way to the sun. It is 
ever so dangerous ! Don't forget this. 


63 








CHAPTER V 

The Land of Dreams 

I T was still, so still in the wood that you 
could have heard a pin drop. One doesn’t 
usually drop pins in a wood, but on the 
floor, or on a chair, or somewhere else where 
they are sure to run into you just when you 
are not expecting anything of the kind. 

There was not a breath of wind ; the 
trees, standing in rows like giant sentinels, 
seemed to be waiting for somebody. Who could 
it be ? 

A lovely path of soft green moss ran through 
this wood from one end of it to the other. 
Far away one could see a little patch of blue. 
This was the sky. The trees were so high 

65 


E 





























Puck’s Broom 

that they formed a roof overhead and shut 
out nearly all the light. 

By and by there was a joyful bark, and 
dashing through the wood came a black dog 
with his tail waving behind him. It was 
Alexander ! He was enjoying himself. 

George came hurrying along after him. 
Though he had been running for quite a 
long time he didn’t seem to be a little bit tired. 
His cheeks were rosy, his eyes were bright, 
and he sang aloud for joy. He was so glad 
to be out with Alexander once more. 

“ Wait for me, Alexander !" he cried. “ Wait 
for me. Don’t be in such a hurry ! ” 

Alexander came bounding toward him, and 
after chasing one another in and out of among 
the trees they threw themselves down on the soft 
moss to rest for a moment. 

“ I think I should like to lie here all day," 
said George. “ I don't remember coming to 
this part of the wood before. I wonder haw 
we got here. Do you know, Alexander?" 

“ I brought you here, little George," said 
Alexander—at least, it sounded as if he had 
said that, and for a moment George thought 
he had really spoken. 

“ That would be fun," he thought to him- 


66 


The Land of Dreams 

self as he lay back with his head against the 
trunk of a tree. “What would they say if 
1 went home and said that Alexander had 
been talking to me ? " 

Suddenly, far, far oft' he heard the music 
again. It seemed to be calling, calling to 
him: “ Come, little boy, come and dance 

and play ! The sun is shining ; the soft wind 
is blowing. Come and play with us! " 

“What nonsense!" said George aloud. “I 
must be dreaming again. I wonder if the 
doctor gave me that medicine to make me 
dream. What was it he said to me about 
Fairyland ? " 

“Wish as hard as ever you can!" said 
Alexander. 

George was so startled when he heard 
Alexander speak for the second time that 
he fell down backward. Then he sat up 
slowly and looked at him. The dear black 
dog was sitting up, looking at George with— 
yes!—a smile on his face, and wagging his 
tail gently to and fro. 

“Now am I dreaming or not?" said 
George. 

Alexander still smiled and wagged his tail, 
but he said never a word this time. 


67 


Puck’s Broom 

“ Come on !” cried George, and he ran down 
the path as hard as ever he could. 

He ran and ran until suddenly he found 
himself right out of the wood and in the midst 
of a most beautiful meadow. A little stream 
of clear blue water flowed gently along past 
banks carpeted with flowers. There must have 
been hundreds of them, and every one a different 
colour. 

The sun was shining as he had never seen it 
shine before, and yet he did not feel a bit too 
hot. 

He looked around him, but there was no one 
to be seen. The only sound was the soft gurgle , 
gurgle of the stream flowing over the stones. 
He lay down by the side of it, and hollowing 
his hands to make a cup, dipped them in the 
water ; then, raising them to his mouth, took a 
deep, delicious drink. 

George drank again and yet again ; then, 
lying face downward, gazed into the stream. 
It was full of little fishes ; golden, silver—there 
were so many that he could not even count 
them, and each was more beautiful than the 
other. 

“ This is jolly ! ” he thought. “ It's just like a 
piece out of a story, only better." 

68 


The Land of Dreams 

He rose to his feet and stood for a moment 
thinking. “ I know; I want to cross the 
stream/' he said, when—lo and behold !—just in 
front of him there was a little bridge, exactly 
wide enough for one person at a time. He 
crossed it with Alexander at his heels ; then, 
turning round to look back, found that the 
bridge had vanished! 

This was a curious thing to happen, but 
George hadn't time to wait. He wanted to go 
on and on and find out where the wonderful 
music came from. 

“ Wu-aff /" barked Alexander, and it sounded 
for all the world as if he were saying: “What 
fun, George ! What fun ! " 

On they dashed, first George in front and 
then his dog. Right across the meadow 
they went, and suddenly found themselves 
on a broad white road which went winding 
and winding along as far as ever you could 
see. 

“ This is like ‘ Over the hills and far away,'" 
laughed George. “ Come on, old boy ! " And 
on they ran again, so fast that the road looked 
as if it were unwinding itself quickly like a ball 
of ribbon. 

“ I expect we shall soon get there now," said 

69 


Puck’s Broom 

George. “We must be miles and miles away 
from home/' 

The road grew narrower and narrower until 
it became quite a little path, and this path led 
them up to a little green gate, which appeared 
suddenly in front of them as if it had popped up 
out of the ground. 

“This must lead to just where I want to 
go," said George. He was quite accustomed to 
talking aloud now. Somehow his voice sounded 
different, and he felt as if he must talk, for it 
seemed as if some one—he didn't know who— 
was listening to him all the time. 

Across the top of the gate was written in 
shining letters “ Please open me /’ 

George pushed it open and walked through ; 
then he saw that on the other side was “ Please 
shut me” He shut it carefully behind him and 
walked on. 

Once more, in front of him, sounded the music, 
but clearer and louder, as if it were only round 
the corner—but there was no corner. 

He found himself in a narrow, shady glade. 
The trees, the grass, everything was a cool, 
delicious green. It was like looking down 
a long tunnel lighted by a soft green light. 
The little path went straight downhill as 
70 




THERE STOOD A DELIGHTFUL LITTLE HOUSI 


70 













The Land of Dreams 

far as one could see, and never seemed to 
end. 

George was beginning to wonder where he 
was going to, and if he had not wanted to 
find out about the music he would have 
turned back, for it felt like tea-time. He 
could not remember at what hour he had 
started out; nor how he had got into the 
wood; nor did he know how he was going 
to find his way back. But he knew that it 
was close upon tea-time, which is quite a 
different feeling from breakfast and lunch¬ 
time, as you all know. 

“ I wish there was a house here/' he 
thought. “ I should like tea with plenty of 
jam and cake." 

There was really no end to the surprises 
of this most wonderful day. The path went 
straight — as if it had been told — into a 
wide open space, and there stood a delightful 
little house with smoke curling up from its 
chimneys. 

George stood still for a moment and looked 
at it with eyes wide open in surprise. Alex¬ 
ander rushed forward, barking joyfully, and 
jumped against the door. 

George followed him, and then stood still 

71 


Puck’s Broom 

again, for painted on the door in tiny letters 
was George’s House. 

“How funny!” lie thought. “There must 
be another George living here. I hope he 
will be kind and give me tea/' 

He lifted the latch and walked inside. There 
was no one there, but in the middle of the 
most comfortable little room stood a table 
with the cloth laid; tea, bread and butter, 
cake, jam (two kinds)—quite a birthday tea, 
in fact. 

Alexander was already seated in one of the 
chairs as if he were in the nursery at home 
and eager to begin. 

“Well!" said George, “this is nice!" And 
before you could count ‘two' he had seated 
himself at the table, poured out a cup of tea, 
and was spreading strawberry jam on to a 
large piece of fresh bread and butter. How 
they both enjoyed themselves! There never 
was such a tea ! 

When they had eaten all they could there was 
still plenty left on the table. It almost looked 
as if some one had been cutting bread and 
butter and cake for them all the time. 

George remembered to say his grace, and 
then, all of a sudden, he felt very sleepy. 

72 


The Land of Dreams 

“ It's not nearly bed-time yet, but I wonder 
if there's a bedroom. I should like to lie down 
just for a minute or two," he said. Alexander 
yawned and stretched himself. 

George looked round, and there in the corner 
he saw a stair, so up he went and found him¬ 
self in a little bedroom. The bed looked so 
comfortable that he lay down on it, while 
Alexander curled himself up at the foot with 
a sigh of content. 

The wind blew gently in through the window, 
bringing with it the scent of sweet flowers. 
Really it was just like asking George to go to 
sleep. 

He closed his eyes, and in a moment was 
far away in the Land of Dreams. 

Once more was heard the strain of music, 
sweet and clear, and with it, wafted on the 
wings of the wind, came the sound of hun¬ 
dreds of tiny little voices laughing. 


73 



% 








LULLA-LULLABY 


Heke we come. 
Hark the drum! 
Rum-ti-tum ! 

Here we go 
In a row, 
Tip-i-toe. 

Silence keep 
Whilst we peep. 
He’s asleep. 

Leave him this, 
A fairy kiss, 
Dreams of bliss. 

Hound and round 
Softly fly. 

Singing sweetly 
Lullaby. 


75 




















CHAPTER VI 

Father Time 

G EORGE dreamed that night as he had 
never dreamed before. It was a curious 
dream, full of dragons, giants, fairies, 
aeroplanes, motor-cars, all mixed up together. 
But all the time he half remembered where he 
was and kept thinking : “ I am in bed in the 
little house that belongs to George, and it 
must be a dream-house. If it is, then I am 
dreaming inside a dream.” 

Every time he thought this he woke up—or 
seemed to wake up—and then fell asleep again. 
Alexander dreamed about large bones and 
crackly biscuits. That was the kind of dream 
he liked best. 


77 






























Puck’s Broom 

Morning came—but perhaps there had never 
been any night—and George really awoke, sat 
up, and rubbed his eyes. The sun was shining 
through the window, and Alexander had gone. 

He washed his face and hands and went 
downstairs. The table was laid for breakfast 
with porridge and cream—a jug full!—eggs and 
bacon, toast, rolls hot from the oven, fresh 
butter, jam, and marmalade. 

The Mr George who lived in this house was 
a nice person to know. George felt that he 
would like to stay here for quite a long time if 
he could only send a message to Mother and let 
her know where he was. 

He sat down feeling quite delighted at having 
breakfast all by himself, and just as he was 
drinking his second cup of tea the door opened 
and in came Alexander. 

“Oh, where have you been?" cried George. 
“ Don't you want any breakfast ? ” 

“ Waff! Waff! ” replied Alexander, which 
meant: “ Don't ask me silly questions like that, 
but give me something to eat." 

He ate a good breakfast and drank a whole 
saucerful of milk, which he hardly ever got at 
home. 

After breakfast George thought it was time 

78 



Father Time 

to start again. He had quite forgotten about 
going home now. It seemed quite the right 
thing to put on his cap and set off again to— 
where, goodness only knows ! 

Alexander stood waiting by the door, and 
George said aloud : “ Thank you, Mr George, 
for your kindness/' just to show that he hadn’t 
forgotten his manners ; then they went out into 
the bright sunshine. 

George’s House stood in a lovely little spot. 
Birds called to one another from the branches 
of the high trees ; rabbits scuttled in and out 
of their holes, played hide-and-seek, and even 
flopped just under Alexanders nose. 

George took a deep breath: “ Oh, I am 

enjoying myself,” he cried. “ Aren’t you, 
Alexander ? ” 

“Ra-ther! ” barked Alexander, and ran round 
and round chasing his tail while all the rabbits 
sat and watched him. It certainly did seem as 
if he had spoken that time—but no !—it wasn’t 
possible! 

Off they went again. There were sure to be 
more adventures if one only kept on and on to 
the end of the wood. Little paths ran in all 
directions, and each one looked greener and 
nicer than the other. 


79 



Puck’s Broom 

“ I expect they all go to the same place in the 
end,” said George, and so, without waiting for a 
moment, he ran as hard as he could down the 
nearest at hand. It twisted and turned in all 
directions ; sometimes it seemed as if it were 
turning round and coming all the way back 
again. At last it gave quite a little jump and 
went straight ahead. 

They walked and ran, and ran and walked by 
turns ; it grew lighter and lighter until they 
could see the sun shining on the—yes, it was!— 
the sea. 

Now, if there is one place which is jollier 
than all the others it is the seashore on a 
sunny day. There is always paddling, bath¬ 
ing, digging, making castles and lakes; 
besides, the fun of getting caught , by a 
splashy wave is worth while getting wet twice 
over. 

Hurrah for the sea! You could almost hear 
it calling, for in the summer-time all the little 
boy-waves love to play with their friends the 
human boys. Dogs are welcome too if they will 
swim in after sticks. 

In another moment George and Alexander 
were out of the wood and on the seashore. 
Such miles of hard yellow sand as far as one 
80 



Father Time 

could see, and a sea as blue, or even bluer 
than the sky. 

Oft* came George's clothes, and in he splashed 
with Alexander after him. The water was as 
warm as toast, and made him feel like having 
five minutes more every time he thought of 
coming out. 

George dried himself in the sun and put on 
his clothes, while Alexander rolled about in 
the sand and shook himself until he looked 
like a great mop with all its hair on end. 
But after a bathe there are usually biscuits, 
and there were certainly none here. 

“ I expect we shall find some," said George. 
“ If we don't, we must go back to George's 
House and have dinner." 

He turned to walk up the beach toward the 
long sand-hills which ran in a line along the 
shore, and there, sitting not far olf him, he 
saw an old man. This old man had white 
hair, not very much of it, and a long beard 
which flowed down to his knees. He was 
holding something in his hand ; George could 
not see what it was. 

“ Perhaps he's lost his way. Come on, Alex¬ 
ander ; we'll go and ask him," said George. 

He was quite a nice old man, and smiled 
f 81 


Puck’s Broom 

such a kind smile when George took off his cap 
politely and said : “ Good-morning/' 

“ Good-morning, little George ,' 5 he answered. 

“ I say, do you know my name ?" asked George 
in surprise. “ Oh, are you the Mr George who 
lives in that little house in the wood, be¬ 
cause I slept there. This is Alexander, my 
dog ; he was there with me. He’s a very 
well-behaved dog unless he sees a cat or a 
rabbit, and then its an awful bother to get 
him back. Have you got a dog ? And what is 
that thing you have in your hand ? Oh, I forgot 
I was never to ask more than one question 
at a time. I am very sorry I was rude." 

The old man smiled again. “ No, my name 
is not George. The little house belongs to— 
well, you will find that out by and by. I 
haven’t a dog of my own, but I know all 
about dogs. This is an hour-glass. It tells 
the time. You see the sand trickling down 
from one glass into the other. When all the 
sand has trickled through I turn the glass 
over, and it begins all over again." 

“ Oh, I say, how jolly !" cried George. “ May 
I look ? I’ve seen an hour-glass in a picture- 
book I have at home, but this is a real one, 
isn’t it?" 

82 


Father Time 

“Quite real/' answered the old man; “as 
real as you are, little George." 

George gazed at the hour-glass for some 
time ; then suddenly he remembered something. 
“ Why, I know who is holding the hour-glass 
in the picture," he said. “ It's Father Time. . . . 
Oh, you look just like him! Are you Father 
Time, please ?" 

“Well, that is what people call me," said 
Father Time, stroking his long beard and 
looking at George with a queer look, as if 
he were trying to see right inside him. 

“Then you can really fly?" asked George. 
“ Nurse always says that 4 Time Hies.' I don't 
see your wings . . . but perhaps you don’t 
need any," he added politely. 

Father Time smiled very kindly, and spoke 
in a very soft, gentle voice: “Yes, I fly, and 
I have wings, though you cannot see them. 
The young people think that I fly far too 
slowly, and when they are grown up they 
think I fly too quickly. . . . But the sand in 
my hour-glass is always falling, falling, never 
quickly, never slowly." 

“And do you have to look after all the clocks 
in the world ?" asked George. “ There are 
ever so many. We've got six in our house, 

83 


Puck’s Broom 

and Father and Mother have got watches 
as well.” 

“ Yes,” replied Father Time. “It gives me a 
great deal of work, but if it were not for me you 
wouldn’t have any clocks and watches.” 

“ Oh, that would be queer ! ” exclaimed George. 
“ We should never know if it was time to go to 
bed or time to get up. Nurse wouldn't like 
that, for she loves everything to be ‘ on the tick,’ 
she says. ‘ A stitch in time saves nine ’ is what 
she is always telling me.” 

“ A great many people say that,” answered 
Father Time. “If everybody remembered it, 
my old cloak wouldn’t be as ragged as it is,” 
and he showed George a number of holes and 
tears which certainly looked as if they needed 
mending. 

Alexander whined and then barked : “ Come 
on, don't talk so much, please ! ” 

“Down, Alexander!” cried George. “Were 
going in a minute. Oh, please, can you tell me 

the way to-” And then he stopped, for he 

really didn’t know where he wanted to go to. 

“You had better go up the road over there,” 
said Father Time, pointing. “You will find a 
finger-post which will show you the way. You 
can’t miss it; it is quite easy to find. Good-bye!” 
84 



Father Time 

“ Oh, wait a minute ! ” cried George, for old 
Time was already some way off. He turned and 
waved his hand. 

44 Time waits for no man ! ” he said. 44 Follow 
your fortune, little George ! ” 

44 He is a funny old man,” thought George. 
44 Follow my fortune ? Whatever does he mean ? ” 

Far, far off, he heard the sweet music once 
again. It sounded more inviting than ever. 
44 It’s like the story of Dick Whittington, only 
he had a cat and not a dog. I believe the music 
is saying: 4 Follow your fortune, your fortune, 
oh, follow ! 7 Come and look for the finger-post, 
Alexander ! ” And he ran up the sands toward 
the road. 

Puck flew into the wood. 44 He’s here!” he 
cried. 

The fairies danced round him in delight. 
44 Hurrah ! ” they cried. 44 Hurrah !” sounds 
different altogether and much nicer in their 
language. 44 Tell us all about it! ” 

So Puck sat down and told them all about 
George’s adventures right from the beginning. 
If you have not remembered everything you 
must turn back and read it all again for your¬ 
self. 


85 


Puck’s Broom 

“ Ker-ek ! ” croaked the old frog. “ But what’s 
all this about Father Time ? How do you know 
he met Time. I don’t believe it! ” and then he 
nearly fell backward in surprise, for there stood 
the old man in front of him. 

“ Now do you believe? ” said Puck’s voice, and 
the fairies burst out laughing, for it was Puck 
himself all the time ! 

When the old frog had stopped coughing 
Father Time had disappeared, and Puck sat 
there smiling. 

“ What a clever Puck I am ! ” he cried, turning 
head over heels. 



86 


TIME FLIES 


Time flies 
On wings of light. 

He flies by day. 

He flies by night. 

Time flies, 

And ne’er doth he 
Stay still and rest 
For you and me. 

Time flies. 

The clock strikes—hark 
The day has gone, 
And now ’tis dark. 

Time flies. 

You go to bed. 

’Tis day once more, 
And night has fled. 

Time flies. 

You’re young to-day. 

Time touches you— 
You’re old and grey. 








CHAPTER VII 

More Adventures 

I T really was a delightful country to live in. 
There was no need to ask your way to 
anywhere—you just went. Almost before 
he knew where he was George found himself 
back in front of the little house. 

Smoke was still curling up from the chim¬ 
neys, so somebody must have been putting 
more coal on the fire—at least, it would seem so. 

It was quite time for dinner; and, sure 
enough, dinner was ready. It doesn’t matter 
what George had to eat—it would make you 
feel both hungry and cross if you knew. 

When the meal was over George thought it 
was quite time to follow his fortune, but 
where and what was it ? 


89 

























Puck’s Broom 

“ Oh, Alexander shall show me the way/ 
he said, and he stepped outside into the 
garden, where that always hungry creature 
was cracking a large bone. 

“ Alexander, I mean to follow my fortune/’ 
he said, “but I don’t know where it is. Can 
you help me?” 

To his surprise, Alexander looked up, wagged 
his tail, and then said quite as plain as could 
be: “ All right; let me finish this bone and 
then I’ll come ! ” 

George stared at him. “ Can you really 
talk, Alexander?” 

“ Talk ? Of course I can talk,” he replied. 
“ Who ever heard of a dog who couldn't talk ? 
I’ve talked to you ever since I’ve known you, 
only I don’t talk like a boy. I talk like a dog.” 

This was quite true, for he still had a 
‘doggy’ voice, and there was a sound of 
“ Wuff 9 wufft ” in everything he said. 

“ Good gracious ! ” cried George. “ I never 
knew you were talking. I thought you were 
only barking.’’ 

“ Well, barking is talking. What would be 
the use of my barking if it meant nothing?” 
replied Alexander rather crossly, for he hated 
to be interrupted in the middle of a meal. 
90 


More Adventures 

“ Sit down a minute and then I shall be 
ready .' 7 

George sat down and waited quietly. It 
was quite still everywhere; there was a 
soft little breeze which was just enough to 
set the flowers in the garden nodding their 
heads. It kissed George gently on the cheek, 
and then gave a puff which made the golden 
weathercock on the roof-top turn round and 
round until it must have become giddy. 

“Now I'm ready , 77 said Alexander, licking his 
lips and brushing his whiskers carefully, in case 
there might still be a fragment left of his meal. 

“ Alexander, can you tell me whose house 
this is ? 77 George asked. 

“Whose house ? 77 said Alexander. “Why, 
you know. It 7 s written on the door . 77 

“Yes, I know that; but who is this Mr 
George ? 77 

“ You are, of course ,' 7 laughed Alexander, 
and gave a jump of delight. “You are! 
Fancy not knowing that it was your own 
house ! Ha, ha ! What fun ! 77 and he began 
running after his own tail, faster and faster, 
until he looked like a black Catherine wheel. 

“Oh, I say ! 77 cried George. “My house! 
Oh, I wish I could bring Father and Mother 

91 


Puck’s Broom 

to see it. Can't I send them an invitation to 
tea? But I don't see a letter-box anywhere, 
and I can't write a proper letter. Can you ?" 

“No!" replied Alexander. “I don’t want 
to. I don't know why people want to write 
letters at all when they can go for walks and 
talk to one another—and have games and 
meals," he added. 

“Oh, well, I must just tell them all about it 
when we get back again. Now we had better 
start for—you knowpwherever my fortune is." 

Alexander looked round him for a moment. 
“ I think I know the way, but we may as well 
ask the weathercock, so as to be quite sure." 

“Ask the weathercock? How can that help 
us?" George was becoming quite puzzled. 

Alexander said nothing, but gave a short, 
sharp bark. There was a faint “ Cock-a- 
doodle-doo !" from the roof in reply ; then— 
could George believe his eyes ? — the golden 
cock stepped off his little perch and fluttered 
down to their feet. 

He was a smart little bird! All gold from the 
comb on his head to the spurs on his feet, and 
he twinkled and shone so in the sunshine that 
he was quite dazzling to look at. He flapped 
his wings, pecked Alexander playfully behind 
92 


More Adventures 

the ear, and then crowed: “ Cock-a-doodle- 

doo-oo-oo! ” and it sounded for all the world 
as if he were saying : “ How do you do-oo-oo ?” 

“ George is going to follow his fortune,” said 
Alexander. “ Can you put us on the right 
road ? ” 

“ I’d better come with you for part of the 
way,” replied the weathercock. “It’s just along 
down there.” 

“ How do you know the way so well, please ? ” 
asked George. 

“ I know the way to everywhere. A brother 
of mine stands on the roof of your home. 
Haven’t you ever seen him point ? ” 

“ Yes, of course,” said George; “I’ve often stood 
and watched him turning round and round.” 

“Well, you don’t suppose lie’s doing that for 
fun, do you?” asked the cock, looking at him 
with a bright and shining red eye. “ He’s 
pointing out the way.” 

“ I’m afraid I don’t understand.” 

“ Well, he’s pointing out the way to there. . . . 
Every one wants to go there, some time or other. 
If you don't want to go, why did you ask me ? ” 

“Come along!” said Alexander. “George 
will understand by and by. He’s a stranger 
here, you know.” 


93 


Puck’s Broom 

The weathercock strutted on ahead of them, 
and George and Alexander followed. 

“He can talk too,” said George. “Every¬ 
body seems able to talk here.” 

“ Of course,” replied Alexander. “ Why 
shouldn’t they ? Everything and everybody 
talks in its own way if you only know how to 
listen. Why, the wind's talking all the time. 
Can’t you hear it ? ” 

George stood still and listened. “ It does 
seem to be saying something. It sounds just 
like : ‘ Oh-oo f Oh-oo ! ’ ” 

Alexander laughed — such a funny, wuffy 
laugh. “ It s humming a tune to the trees. 
Can't you see them nodding their heads in time 
to the music? If the wind were angry they 
would be shivering and shaking with fri gut. 
Perhaps it will talk to us by and by.” 

“ Come on ! ” cried the cock, looking round, 
“ I have to get back to work or else the wind 
will be coming along and scolding me for 
wasting time.” 

They walked along down a winding path, up 
a little hill, down another, and there in front 
stood a post with a large finger pointing 
straight ahead. 

“ Here you are ! ” said the cock. “ Go straight 


94 


More Adventures 

on until you arrive there. The weather will be 
quite fine, and your fortune is waiting for you. 
If you want to get back ask any of my family 
you may meet and they will show you the way. 
Good-bye !” He flapped his wings, crowed 
“ Cock-a-doodle-doo !” and disappeared. 

George went up to the finger-post, and there, 
printed on it in large letters, was: “ This way 
to Once-upon-a-Time.” 

“ Another adventure !” he cried. “Come on, 
Alexander ! ” — but Alexander was already 
scampering down the road, barking j oy fully. 


95 








FOLLOW YOUR FORTUNE 


Weathercock, oh, weathercock, 
Cock-a-doodle-doo ! 

Shall I find the road I seek 
If I follow you ? 

Turning, turning, ever turning 
North, south, east, and west; 

Weathercock, oh, weathercock, 
Which way is the best ? 

Pointing, pointing, ever pointing 
With your golden bill. 

Does the road to fortune lead me 
Up or down the hill ? 


G 


97 







CHAPTER VIII 

A Nice Dragon 

I T was really very jolly in this Once-upon- 
a-Time Land, though nothing wonderful 
happened at first. There were beautiful 
green trees, scattered about everywhere in twos 
and threes as if they were keeping one another 
company ; there were large fields full of flowers ; 
little rivers bustling along as if they were in 
a great hurry to get somewhere, and then 
turning a corner and flowing quite slowly as 
if they had remembered that it didn’t really 
matter after all; and far off* in the distance, 
with snowy peaks glittering in the sunshine— 
mountains! 


99 
























Puck’s Broom 

The road led them along lip and down like 
a switchback. It was quite easy walking ; in 
fact, the road almost seemed to walk by it¬ 
self. Whenever they felt thirsty there was a 
spring of delicious cold water bubbling up by 
the roadside, and when they felt hungry there 
were apples, pears, blackberries, strawberries, 
and raspberries all growing and ready for any¬ 
body who would take the trouble to pick 
them. 

“ I think it’s time we got somewhere ,' 5 said 
George. 

“We’re nearly there,” replied Alexander. “I 
know She lives not far from here.” 

“ She ? Who is She ? ” asked George. 

“ Why, Her, of course,” and Alexander ran 
on ahead and round the corner before George 
could ask another question. Suddenly he 
heard a loud barking, and thinking that Alex¬ 
ander was chasing a rabbit, or perhaps a cat, 
he ran as hard as he could, turned the corner, 
and saw- 

Well, I never! It was wonderful, and yet it 
was in Once-upon-a-Time Land, where things 
like this happen every day. It was just as 
one sees it in picture-books, only naturally it 
looked ever so much bigger than one expected. 
100 



A Nice Dragon 

“ A dragon ! cried George. “ I haven’t got 
a sword or anything at all to fight with. If 
it begins to breathe fire it will burn me right 
up! And what is Alexander doing? Why, I 
do believe lie’s playing with it.” 

And so he was, and what was even funnier 
still, the dragon actually seemed to like it. 
Alexander ran down its long, long back, 
which rippled and shone in the sunshine like 
scales of golden flame, bit the end of its tail 
playfully, and barked right under its great 
nose. The dragon opened its great mouth, 
showing rows and rows of sharp, pointed 
teeth, and laughed a really jolty laugh. 

“You seem to want a game, ' it said, in a 
great deep voice which sounded as if it came 
from somewhere half-way down its back. 
“Come on, little George; just wait until I 
uncurl myself.” 

It gave itself a shake and uncoiled all the 
twists in its back, which cracked like little 
pistols, bang! bang! then jumped once or 
twice in the air to stretch its legs. 

“ See if you can catch my tail! ” it cried, 
and then began a regular game of 4 Catch me 
who can ! ’ The dragon didn’t seem to run ex¬ 
actly, but moved along somewhat like a snake, 

101 


Puck’s Broom 

only ever so fast, with its tail hanging tempt¬ 
ingly behind. Every time George put out his 
hand to catch hold of it, whisk t — away it 
went again! Alexander leapt this way and 
that way, and every time he came to the 
ground again found that the dragon was not 
where he expected it to be. Then the dragon 
began to make loops and curves of itself, as 
if it were writing all the letters of the alphabet 
with its long back. 

At last all three lay down on the ground 
quite out of breath. 

“ Fm not so old as I thought I was,” said 
the dragon. “ I haven't had such a good 
game for a long time. Phew! I/m absolutely 
boiling hot! ” and out came a long tongue 
like yards and yards of red flannel, and it 
smoothed its scales as far as it could reach. 

“ Alexander does just the same when lie’s 
washing himself ,' 1 thought George. 

“ So you’re going to look for your fortune ? ” 
said the dragon after a while. 

“ Yes,” replied George, “ I am. I hope Alex¬ 
ander will find his too." 

“ I hope so,” smiled the dragon. “ I like to 
see people who are looking for fortunes, though 
they don't always find them, even when they're 
102 


A Nice Dragon 

under their very noses. I knew a dragon once 
—it’s not a long story—who went to look for his 
fortune." 

“ Was it in Once-upon-a-Time Land?" asked 
George. * 

“ Of course," replied the dragon. “ People 
don’t understand dragons anywhere else. They 
tell the most stupid stories about us, as if we 
went about doing nothing but eat up people and 
breathe fire. You might as well say that dogs 
do nothing else but kill cats," he added, with a 
laugh. 

Alexander looked very solemn, and as if 
butter would not melt in his mouth. 

“ Well, this dragon, as I was saying, went out 
to look for his fortune. He was quite a young 
dragon, and ought to have stayed at home as his 
mother told him. He had never been farther 
than the end of the valley where they lived, 
though of course he thought he knew all about 
everything. 

“So his mother kissed him good-bye, told 
him to take care not to catch cold, and 
watched him disappear in the distance. It 
was a fine day, and the young dragon went 
along thinking of all the great things he was 
going to do, and bumping his head against 

103 


Puck’s Broom 

trees because lie never looked where lie was 
going. 

“ He met nobody and nothing for a long time. 
About midday he began to feel very hungry, 
and almost wished he were at home again. But 
at last, on the top of a hill, he saw a man 
standing by the door of a house ; at least, he 
thought it must be a house, but he wasn't quite 
sure, for he had never seen one before. It was 
really a miller standing by his mill, whistling 
for the wind to come and turn the sails 
round. 

“ He was a friendly miller. He invited the 
dragon to rest for a while and have something 
to eat. After the dragon had eaten forty loaves 
and two hundred currant buns and drunk all 
the water out of the water-butt, he began to 
feel better, and told the miller what he was 
looking for. 

“ ‘ Looking for your fortune, are you?' said 
the miller. ‘ Well, you've come to the right 
place, for the road to fortune starts from here 
and from nowhere else.’ 

“ He saw that the dragon was quite young 
and rather vain, so he thought he would play a 
joke upon him. 

“ ‘ Do you see those long fingers ? ? he said, 


104 


A Nice Dragon 

pointing to tlie sails of the mill. ‘ They are 
pointing out the way to your fortune/ 

“ ‘ Oh ! 7 replied the dragon. ‘ They are all 
pointing different ways. How can I tell in 
which direction to go ? Does my fortune lie 
everywhere all around me ? ’ 

“ ‘ No, no/ said the miller. ‘ Just stand quietly 
here for a bit, and by and by you will learn all 
about it/ Then he went inside the mill and 
waited to see what would happen. 

“ Presently the breeze heard the miller 
whistling and came blowing along in answer to 
his call. The sails of the mill shook, and then, 
very slowly, commenced to turn. 

“ 4 Dear me! ’ thought the young dragon. 

‘ They seem to be pointing in a different 
direction now. This is very funny. I must see 
what it means,' and he walked right up to the 
sails, which were now whirling round quite fast. 

“ Suddenly, smack! on his nose came the first 
sail; smack! came the second, and smack ! the 
third. 

“The dragon tumbled head over heels back¬ 
ward. He was so frightened that he picked 
himself up and ran away as fast as he could 
with his tail between his legs, never once looking 
behind him. 


105 


Puck’s Broom 

“ The miller laughed until he was so tired 
that he could laugh no more. 4 That will teach 
him not to be so greedy next time/ he said, for he 
was rather vexed at seeing so many of his loaves 
and buns disappear down the dragon’s throat. 

44 The dragon went on running until, to his 
great surprise, he found himself at the door of 
his home. His mother saw him coming, and 
there was a good tea waiting for him, you may 
be sure. 

“ He was very glad to find himself safe and 
sound and far away from the dreadful mill, but 
at the same time felt very sorry that he had not 
found his fortune. His mother listened to 
everything he told her, and then she said : 4 My 
son, you have found your fortune, after all.’ 

44 4 Where ? ’ asked her son, looking around him 
in surprise, as if he expected to see he didn’t 
know what. 

4 4 4 There, my child ; it lies there, right under 
your very nose.’ 

44 He looked down, and there he saw-” 

44 Oh, what was it ? ” cried George. 

44 Can't you guess? " said the dragon. 44 Dear 
me, I am surprised. Why, the dragon guessed 
at once. They don’t seem to teach boys any¬ 
thing at school nowadays.” 

106 



A Nice Dragon 

“ Oh, I learn heaps of things/’ said George. 

“ Umph /” snorted the dragon. “ I expect it’s 
just heaps of rubbish. I don't suppose you 
know half as much as a dragon of the same age 
as yourself.” 

“ But dragons don't go to school, do they ?” 
asked George. 

“ Why not ? ” replied the dragon. “ Of course 
they do ; but they don't sit on benches in a 
schoolroom. They learn out of doors, which is 
the proper place for a school. They learn useful 
things, such as how to see what they see and 
hear what they hear ; not to go about the world 
like blind mice, not believing in the fairies like 
a little boy I once heard of.” 

Alexander laughed. “ He means you, George. 
You know, you never liked fairy stories, did 
you ? ” 

George blushed. “ I never said I didn't be¬ 
lieve in them, but it always seemed as if they 
couldn't be real.” 

“Are you real?” suddenly asked the dragon. 

“ Of course I am,” said George. “ I'm as real 
as real can be.” 

“ Well, you're not a bit, not a little bit real,” 
replied the dragon. “ Any boy who is lucky 
enough to find his way into this country, and 

‘ " 107 


Puck’s Broom 

then doesn't believe in the fairies, is not more 
real than a soap bubble, and will burst into 
little bits just as a bubble does." 

Alexander laughed. “ I should love to see 
George all in little bits. I wonder if we could 
ever fit him together again .' 1 

“ No ; he'd be just like Humpty Dumpty,” said 
the dragon. “ There have been hundreds of 
little boys like that, and I have never heard 
of one who was mended again. Some were 
patched up, but there were always pieces 
missing, and they were never the same boys. 
Their mothers soon got tired of them and gave 
them away to the rag-and-bone man ; 1 

George sat quite silent for some time. He 
didn't like being laughed at, and felt that both 
the dragon and Alexander thought him quite 
as stupid—or even more so—as the dragon in 
the story. 

“ Come, we'd better be starting," said the 
dragon. “ She doesn't like to be kept waiting.” 

George was just about to ask who She might 
be, but he shut his mouth with a snap and 
pretended that he knew all about it. 

“ Get on my back ! " ordered the dragon, and 
George jumped on at once and seated himself 
comfortably. 

108 


A Nice Dragon 

Off the dragon went like a great, long railway 
train, faster and faster, until they shot into a 
forest and it became as dark as the darkest 
tunnel. 

“ Wuff! Wuff!" barked Alexander. “ Hold 
tight, George ! ’’ 



109 





Now, 
do you 
believe in the 
fairies ? If you 
don't, then close the 
book at once, and leave 
George and A lexander to 
seek their fortunes by themselves. 




CHAPTER IX 

The Witch 


S UDDENLY the dragon’s eyes lit up as 
if they were lamps. They could see a 
little way ahead, but all around it was 
so dark that you could almost feel it. George 
thought—he was always having funny thoughts 
now—that if he put his hand out some of the 
black darkness would rub off on it. 

After a time they seemed to be going down¬ 
hill. Far away gleamed a light which grew 
brighter and brighter every moment. At last 
George could see that they were close to the 
mouth of a large cave, in front of which sat 
a perfectly enormous black cat with green 
eyes shining like lights on a railway signal. 

h 113 































Puck’s Broom 

Its tail was standing straight up on end, 
black and bushy; never had George seen 
such a tail before. The dragon went on past 
the cat into the cave, round corners, on and 
on until at last he stopped with a jerk, and 
George fell off his back. 

“Here we are,” said the dragon, “just in 
time. I thought at first we were late, and 
then, my word!—we should have caught it! 
Come on! ” and he led the way into the 
witch’s kitchen. 

All that George could see at first was a 
huge open fireplace upon which great logs of 
wood were crackling. Over the fire hung a big 
round kettle from which at times came weird 
gurgling sounds. The queerest shadows of 
goblins and imps danced about as if they 
were really alive. Altogether it was a most 
uncomfortable place to be in. 

Curled up on the hearth was another cat; 
a yellow animal with red eyes which stared 
and stared at them as if it wondered who on 
earth they could be. 

“ So here you are at last! ” said a voice 
from somewhere, so suddenly that it made 
George jump. 

He looked round on every side, but for a long 
114 


The Witch 

time could see nothing. At last, in the dim 
light, he could just make out what looked 
like the figure of an old, old woman with a 
very crooked back and a queer, wrinkled face. 
She was sitting in a dark corner in a high- 
backed chair, looking into the fire as if she 
were reading all kinds of stories in it. 

“Come here, George, : ” she said. “Tell me 
all about your fortune.” 

It was really rather annoying that every¬ 
body seemed to know all about George and 
what he was going to do. However, it 
couldn't be helped, so he walked up to the 
witch, feeling just a little bit afraid, and 
looked straight into her eyes. 

Her face was covered with hundreds of 
little wrinkles, which crossed and recrossed 
one another almost without end. She looked 
as if she had lived for hundreds and hundreds 
of years, and was, oh, so tired of everything! 
Her eyes were very bright, and shone with a 
pale light which made George feel a little bit 
giddy at first, though he couldn’t think why. 

Her voice was quite gentle, rather sad, and 
sounded as if it came from far, far, away. 
Perhaps it had grown tired too. 

“So you are following your fortune?” said 

115 


Puck’s Broom 

the witch. “ Dear me ! Do you know who I 
am?” 

“ Please, ma'am ,’ 5 replied George, “ you’re 
a witch . 55 

“And a very wicked old woman too, who 
turns little boys into frogs and toads, and 
flies through the air on a broomstick. Isn't 
that what you've learned about me ? 55 asked 
the witch, with a queer smile. Where had 
George seen that smile before? 

He blushed rosy red, for he certainly had 
always heard that witches were wicked women. 
Had not Father once called some old woman 
who was always telling disagreeable stories 
about other people behind their backs a 
wicked witch ? George had asked this same 
old woman if she had brought her broomstick 
with her. She had been quite cross, and 
called him “ a rude little boy . 55 

“ If you please, ma'am , 55 he said, “ I expect 
there are good witches as well as bad witches . 55 

“Ah, well! Let us hope I'm a good witch, 
one who will help you to find your fortune, and 
Alexander's too 55 ; and the witch stretched out 
her thin old hands to the fire to warm them. 

Wonders will never cease! George suddenly 
caught sight of Alexander lying down side 
116 


The Witch 

by side with the yellow cat—and when he 
was at home not a single cat was allowed to 
put even one foot inside the garden ! 

“ He's quite an old friend,” said the witch. 
“ My dear Golden Girl and he are almost like 
brother and sister.’* 

Alexander licked the end of the cat's nose, 
and she patted him gently with her paw and 
purred. 

“ Sit down and tell me all about it,” con¬ 
tinued the witch, pushing a three-legged stool 
toward George. He perched himself on it 
with his legs swinging in the air, and com¬ 
menced to talk—at least, he always said after¬ 
ward that he did—but what with the witch 
nodding, the cat purring, and the kettA boiling 
it is more than likely that he fell asleep. 

Suddenly the kettle began to boil furiously, 
and clouds of steam poured out of its spout. 

“ Nearly ready! Nearly ready!” said the 
witch, and counted slowly up to ten. Then : 
“ Take off the lid, Alexander ! ” she cried. 

Alexander jumped up and lifted off the kettle- 
lid with his tail as if he had been used to doing 
it all his life. 

In a moment the kitchen was full of steam, 
which wreathed and curled itself into the 

117 


Puck’s Broom 

queerest shapes and figures. George wondered 
wliat was going to happen next, but sat still 
and said nothing. 

The witch rose from her chair and hobbled 
up to the kettle, helping herself along with a 
long-handled stick. She leaned over the kettle, 
looking down into it for a moment or two, then, 
waving her stick, commenced to sing in a high, 
shrill voice. It sounded at first as if she were 
singing the multiplication table. George re¬ 
membered bits of it, and this is what he said 
she sang : 

“ Twice times one is two, 

Bubble, bubble brew! 

Water boil and fire burn, 

Turn around and turn and turn. 

Up and down, and down and up, 

Fill the pot and fill the cup. 

Blood of toad and juice of nettle 
Stew and stew within the kettle. 

Stir about with witch’s stick. 

Quick ! . . . Quick! 

“ Oh, ho ! . . . Oh, ho ! 

Twice times four is eight, 

Now it’s getting late. 

Add a little puppy’s tail 
And a dragon’s shining scale. 

From the boy who’s sitting there 
Cut a lock of curly hair! 

Ah, ha ! . . . Ah, ha ! ” 


118 


The Witch 

“Ah, ha! Ah, ha!” sang Golden Girl and 
Alexander together, and the kettle bubbled 
and boiled : “ Oh, ho ! Oh, ho ! ” 

This went on for quite a long time, and 
George wondered if the witch were going to cut 
off a lock of his hair. How nasty a stew with 
hair in it would taste. Ugh ! 

“ It's time to start now. Are we all ready? 
Dragon ! Where’s that lazy dragon ? ” cried the 
witch. 

“ Here I am ! ” replied the dragon, appearing 
from somewhere or other: “ I'm quite ready. 
Will you ride on your catoplane ? ” 

George wondered whatever a catoplane might 
be, but was too polite to ask. The witch quickly 
put on a long cloak and waved her stick, and 
the wall of the kitchen flew open. 

“ Come along ; don’t keep me waiting! ” she 
said to George, and he jumped off his stool and 
followed her. He could see nothing, but felt 
that they were in the open air again. 

“ Here’s my broomstick ! ” he heard the witch 
say, with a laugh ; he felt himself lifted on to 
something, and then —whirrrr ! whizzz t —off 
they went. 

“ Oh, are we in an aeroplane, please ? ” asked 
George, feeling tremendously excited. 


119 


Puck’s Broom 

“Aeroplane, indeed!” sniffed the witch. “I 
should like to see the aeroplane that could fly 
as fast as this. Look and see for yourself, 
George! ” 

George looked in front of him. He certainly 
seemed to be seated on something like a broom¬ 
stick, and right in front of him sat the yellow 
cat, flashing its red eyes into the darkness like 
searchlights. Alexander was seated quite close 
to her, looking as pleased as Punch. 

George looked behind him and heard the noise 
of an engine, throb , throb , and saw a black some¬ 
thing turning, turning without stopping. 

“ I suppose that’s the motor,” he said. 

“ Guess again, George !” laughed the witch. 

George looked and looked. “No, I can’t 
guess,” he confessed. 

“Well—wait and see!” And the witch 
smiled. Her smile was just like—no, it wasn’t. 
. . . Oh, it was very puzzling ! 


120 




CHAPTER X 

The High Mountains 


W E must be going faster than a railway 
train/’ said George. 

“ We’re going faster than twenty 
trains/’ replied the witch. “ In a minute or 
two we shall catch up the daylight. . . . Ah, 
there you can see it already!” And she 
pointed to a speck of light toward which they 
were travelling at lightning speed. 

The light grew brighter and brighter, and 
at last they shot into the most dazzling sun¬ 
shine, and there, ahead of them, were the 
lovely mountains with their snowy tops all 
aglow. They were travelling high up above 

121 


























Puck’s Broom 

the land, and the only thing to be seen was 
a tremendously tall tower which stood erect 
in the middle of the plain. 

“ Blow the horn! ” cried the witch, and 
Alexander barked “ Wu-uff !” three times, 
while Golden Girl miaowed like ten railway 
engines all blowing off steam at the same 
time. The tower suddenly came to life, and, 
to George’s astonishment, as they drew closer 
he saw that it was a giant holding out a hand 
nearly as big as a station platform. 

They flew straight on and alighted gently 
on the outstretched hand, and then the engines 
stopped. George looked behind him and saw 
two large cats, as black as coal, sitting at the 
end of the broom. 

“ There, you see!” said the witch. “You 
never would have guessed.” 

“ I haven’t guessed now,” replied George. 
“ Did those two cats drive the machine along?” 

“ Of course!” laughed the witch. “ That’s 
why it’s called a catoplane. If you wait until we 
start again you'll see how it’s done.” Then, 
turning, she called out: “ Good-morning, 

friend ! Are you quite well to-day ? ” 

“ Good-morning ! ” replied the giant in a deep 
voice which rumbled and rolled like thunder. 
122 


The High Mountains 

“ I'm fairly well, thank you. What brings you 
here ? ” 

“We’re just giving George and Alexander a 
lift. George is following his fortune, you know.” 

“ Ah, to be sure ! ” said the giant. 44 I remem¬ 
ber hearing about it the last time the storks 
passed this way. They generally bring me some 
news of what is going on down below there.” 

George looked up at him with wide-open 
eyes. It isn’t every day that one gets a 
chance of seeing a live giant, except in a 
circus—and even then they are disappointing, 
for they are not really a little bit like the 
picture which is shown outside. No circus 
would be big enough to hold this giant. He 
looked as if he were quite a mile long. His 
face was as big as an enormous moon, but 
he looked quite kind and smiled all the time. 

44 Are you off* to the mountains ? ” he asked. “ I 
expect you’ll find Him there. He’s not been very 
busy lately, but He’s expecting you, I’m sure.’* 

“ Who’s 4 Him,’ please?” asked George. 

44 Wait and see,” replied the witch. 44 Little 
boys should always wait, and then—perhaps— 
they will see.” 

There seemed to be a great deal of waiting 
in this country, but George was learning to 

123 


Puck’s Broom 

be patient. Alexander was busy talking to 
the cat, and the witch was whispering in the 
giant’s ear, as he had bent down his head quite 
close to her. 

“ I wonder why he stands there all by him¬ 
self,” thought George. “ He must feel very lonely 
with his feet down ever so far below him and his 
head in the clouds. I wonder if he ever goes to 
bed, and how does he get enough to eat ? I 
shouldn’t like to be as big as that.” 

“ He wants to know all about you, you see,” 
said the witch to the giant. George gave such 
a start! He had forgotten that she was there. 
How had she been able to read his thoughts? 

“ I’m a witch, my dear, and can tell every¬ 
thing,” smiled the witch, answering his thoughts. 
“ I can see right inside your little head if I want 
to. If I couldn't, I shouldn’t be a witch at all.” 

f 

“Well, it’s rather a long story to tell you 
all about myself,” began the giant. “ It would 
take weeks and weeks. Even then we shouldn't 
have finished, for then there would be the story 
of all the weeks during which you had been 
listening to me.” 

“ But I should know all about that” said 
George. “You would have been telling me the 
story, of course, and I should have been here.” 
124 


The High Mountains 

The giant thought for a moment. “ Yes . . . 
but then I should have to tell you the story of 
how I told you the story . . . and even then it 
wouldn't have an end, for-" 

“ You're half asleep !” cried the witch. “We 
can t wait to hear any more just now. You 
can tell it to George by and by." 

“ It's always by and by," grumbled the giant. 
“ I’ve been trying to tell some one for years 
and years, and just as I’m going to begin it's 
always time to go somewhere and do some¬ 
thing. Where's the dragon ?" 

“ Playing with his tail, or else fast asleep, I 
expect," said the witch. “ I never in all my life 
knew such a lazy creature. He's only awake 
when there’s a chance of a game. If he comes 
along after we’ve gone, tell him your story." 

“It's no use. He just jumps about and never 
listens. The last time he was here he played 
with my boots and bit a great piece out of one 
of them. He said he was sorry, but I’ve had a 
sore toe ever since. You wouldn’t believe what 
a lot I have to put up with," and the poor giant 
looked as if he were going to cry. 

“ There, there !" said the witch soothingly. 
“You shall come with us if you’re good, only 
don’t cry. Remember, the last time you flooded 

125 



Puck’s Broom 

the whole country and gave all of us dreadful 
colds. And what a bother it was making extra 
handkerchiefs for you. 7 ' 

“ Oh, may I come with you ? 77 cried the giant. 
“ I should like that! I get such pins and 
needles in my feet standing here . 77 

“ Why do you stand here ? 77 asked George. 

“ To look out, of course, 7 ' said the witch ; and 
then, as she saw George was going to ask 
another question, she gave the order to start. 

The two black cats curled their tails round 
the end of the broom and then began to turn 
round and round in the air. 

“ Doesn't it make them dreadfully giddy ? 77 
asked George. 

“ No, of course not ,' 7 said the witch. “ It 
might do so if they were ordinary cats—but 
they're not. Listen to them purring . 77 

What George had imagined was the throbbing 
of an engine was indeed the purring of the two 
cats as they whirled round in opposite directions. 
The witch was riding straight toward the 
mountains, and the giant with huge strides was 
keeping close by their side. He nodded to them 
from time to time, and George waved his hand 
in reply. 

He was really a nice giant, and it was just as 
126 


The High Mountains 

well to keep him cheerful and happy, for it 
would be very disagreeable to have a flood. 

The mountains came nearer and nearer, and 
George thought he had never seen anything so 
splendid in all his life. Even the giant looked 
quite small beside them. 

“ Are we going right to the top, the very tip¬ 
top of that mountain ? " asked George, pointing. 

The witch did not answer for a moment. 
Then she turned to him and said : “ Sing ! " 

“ What shall I sing?" asked George in 
surprise, for he only knew some old nursery 
rhymes, and wasn't quite certain if he could 
remember the words or not. 

“ Listen to the music," answered the witch. 
“ That will tell you the words." 

True enough, there was music in the air all 
around them, as if the trees, the water, and the 
wind were all playing together. George listened, 
and then, to his surprise, began to sing all about 
the thoughts which he had been turning over in 
his mind. 

“ The mountain-tops are, oh, so high ! 

They make a hole right through the sky. 

They glow with such a lovely light, 

And far below them lies the night. 

Their slopes are clad in fir and pine, 

The queen has ne’er a dress so fine. 


127 


Puck’s Broom 

“ And there they’ve stood, so I’ve heard say, 
Ever so long and one long day. 

And they will stand, so I’ve heard tell, 

For ever and one day more as well. 

So winds blow warm and "winds blow cold 
Over the mountain-tops so old. 

“ The mountain-tops so old and proud, 

They wear a crown of mist and cloud. 

For they were there when things began, 
Ages before the oldest man. 

Oh, mountain-tops, you're older far 
Than great-great-great-great-grandpapa! ” 











128 







CHAPTER XI 

Tom Tiddler s Ground 


T HEY were now quite close to the 
mountains, and the witch gave the 
order to come to earth. The catoplane 
floated gently down until it came to rest in 
a beautiful grassy spot all ringed round with 
trees. 

The giant was standing just a little way off, 
looking around him. 

“ Can you see Him ? ” called the witch. 

“Yes, He’s just coming,” cried the giant. 
“Coo-ee! Coo-eeI ”—and he waved his great 
hand to some one. 


i 


129 














Fuck’s Broom 

The witch, George, Alexander, and the cats 
all sat down and waited. Presently a funny 
little man came running along through the 
trees. He had a queer wrinkled-up face, with 
a smile in one corner of his mouth. He wore 
a high sugar-loaf hat with a bunch of feathers 
stuck in it, and a long golden cloak which 
floated behind him in the wind. 

He stepped right into the middle of their 
circle, and, taking off his hat, made a low 
bow. 

“Welcome!" he said, “welcome! I hope 
you are all quite well. So you want to follow 
your fortune ?'—with a queer look out of the 
corner of his eye at George. 

“Yes, please / 7 replied George. “At least, I 
suppose Pm following it. I don’t know where 
it is or where I am .’ 7 

“ To be sure ! 77 chuckled the little man, sitting 
down suddenly as if he worked with springs. 
“Well, of course, you 7 re here !” 

“ I know that , 77 laughed George. 

“If you know that, why did you ask me ? 77 
said the little man, cocking his hat on one 
side. “You’re here: you might be there, but 
you’re not. Now you know all about it. . . . 
Would you like something to eat ? 77 
130 


Tom Tiddler’s Ground 

“ Oh yes, please !’’ cried George, “ I should 

like some-’’ And he stopped for a moment 

to think what he would like. 

“ Ask for what you want / 5 said the little 
man. “ I expect it's here. There are all sorts 
of things lying about if one knows where to look 
for them/' 

George looked around him. “ I don't see 
anything-” he began. 

“ Of course not!’’ snapped the witch. “ How 
can you when you don’t know what to look for." 

George did not wait a moment. “A plate 
of roast beef and potatoes, and a large bone 
for Alexander, please ! ” 

“Help yourself!" said the little man. 

There, sure enough, was a large plate of 
beef on George’s knees, and Alexander was 
contentedly gnawing a huge bone. 

“ I’ve got no knife and fork," said George, 
looking at his plate longingly. 

“ Why don't you ask for them ? ’’ grumbled 
the witch. “ You don’t expect knives and forks 
to come of themselves, do you ?" 

“ A knife and fork, please ! " He had hardly 
spoken when Golden Girl got up—where had 
she found them ? — and handed him a knife 
and fork ; just the right size too ! 


131 




Puck’s Broom 

“ Aren't you going to have something to 
eat ? ” asked George. 

“ By and by,” replied the witch. “ Perhaps 
I shall eat you if I get very hungry,” and she 
smiled as if it were a good joke. 

There never was such good roast beef, and 
George was quite sorry when it was all 
finished. 

“ Might I have some apple tart—and a spoon,” 
he added quickly, just remembering in time. 

The apple tart appeared from nowhere, and 
George, when he had finished it, said his grace 
to himself, so as not to make the others feel 
that they had had no lunch. 

The little man had wrapped himself up in 
his cloak and was sitting quite still. Now he 
jumped up. “What is your fortune?” he 
asked George. 

“ I don't know. No one ever told me— 
unless, of course, it’s money. Father always 
says lie’s going to make his fortune some day, 
and he means money. I should like lots of 
money.” 

“ Lots of money, eh ? "—and the queer little 
man smiled a queer little smile. “ Well, you’ve 
come to the right place for that ! ” and they all 
burst out laughing. 

132 



Tom Tiddler’s Ground 

Then the little man sang in a voice like a 
shrill tin whistle: 

“ Here we are on Tom Tiddler’s ground, 

Picking up gold and silver,” 

until the echoes answered : “ Gold and silver! 
Gold and silver ! ” 

George stared at him. “ Are you Tom 
Tiddler ? ” 

The little man bowed low. “ At your service ! 
This is my land. Make yourself at home, I 
beg you/' and then sat down again. 

“ But I don’t see any gold and silver,” said 
George. 

“Pick it up!” replied Tom Tiddler. “You’ll 
see it quick enough then.” 

George bent down, and there, sure enough, 
in his hand was a lump of something sparkling 
in the light. 

“■ Gold! ” he cried, and he commenced to 
pick up more and more. He soon had a large 
heap by his side, 

“How can I carry all this away?” he thought 
to himself. 

Tom Tiddler jumped up and handed him a 
large sack. 

“Oh, thank you!” and George shovelled all 
the gold and silver into it, while all the others 

133 


Puck’s Broom 

sat watching him in silence. No one offered to 
help him, which he thought rather rude. 

The sack was very heavy when he had filled 
it, and he could only just manage to lift it. 

“ Now that you've found your fortune, what 
are you going to do ? " asked Tom Tiddler. 
“ Go home, I suppose, and spend it.” And 
they all laughed once more. 

“ I don't see anything to laugh at,” said 
George. “ I would go home, only I don't 
know my way." 

“ It's straight ahead until you get there, 
and then you stop/' replied Tom Tiddler. 

George thought this rather rude and not 
funny, so he turned and walked away a short 
distance. He felt as if he would like to cry, 
and began to wish he were at home again. 
Something cold touched his hand, and there 
was Alexander looking up at him, just in the 
old way, as if he were saying: “ I'm here; 

don't mind what the others say. I'm always 
your friend." 

George stooped down and patted him. “ Dear 
old Alexander! Let us go back now. I don't 
like Tom Tiddler at all." 

Alexander wagged his tail, but said never a 
word. 

134 


Tom Tiddler’s Ground 

There was a sudden whirr —and there was the 
witch flying away far above their heads. George 
was rather glad, for he felt that he wanted only 
Alexander and nobody else. 

Tom Tiddler came up to him again, and said 
with a bow: “ May I show you the way, little 
master? You mustn’t mind their laughter; 
you will understand better by and by. So many 
come here, following their fortunes like you, and 
don’t even know what their fortunes are.” 

With another bow he turned and led the way 
up a rocky path which seemed to lead right into 
the heart of the mountains. 

George followed him, carrying his bag. How 
heavy it was and how it hurt his shoulder ! He 
got hot and then hotter, and at last, speaking 
half to himself, he said : “ It is too heavy for me 
to carry. ... I can’t carry it any farther. . . . 
I’d sooner have no fortune at all if it’s as difficult 
to take away as this is. . . . Oh, I wish it were 
gone! ” Then, all in a moment, the sack no 
longer seemed to weigh anything. It might 
have been empty. 

He felt so pleased and happy that he raced 
along after Tom Tiddler, but he could never 
quite catch him up, for the little man skipped 
along, jumping from rock to rock like a young 

135 


Puck’s Broom 

goat. At last lie gave a bigger jump than ever, 
and —hey presto !—like a Jack-in-the-box he 
was gone. 

George rubbed his eyes. Yes, there was no 
doubt about it. Unless he had slipped through 
a hole in the ground or flown away, no one could 
tell what had become of him. He turned to 
Alexander, and was just going to ask him what 
they should do when he saw the great round 
face of the giant appear, as if it were floating in 
the air. 

“ This is a funny place/’ thought George. 
“ One never knows what is going to happen 
next. Where did the poor old giant come from, 
I wonder/’ 

“ Hullo !” said the giant as he caught sight of 
them. “ Hullo ! Here you are at last. I’ve 
been waiting for you. They’ve all gone, I 
suppose.” 

“ Yes, they’ve gone. How did you get here?” 
asked George. 

“Oh, I’m just standing down in the valley 
below. I can put my head over the edge of 
the hill, and it’s more comfortable for talking. 
Look over! ” 

George peeped over the edge of the cliff, and 
there, sure enough, below them in the valley 
136 


Tom Tiddler’s Ground 

were the great feet belonging to the giant. 
They looked, so far off were they, as if they 
must belong to some one else. 

It was quite a long time before the giant 
spoke again. “ Let us talk. You do want to 
talk, don't you? I was just thinking over one 
or two stories to tell you—not the whole of my 
life, you know—that’s very long, as I told you 
before. It’s a queer thing about stories. They 
grow just as you and I do. Every time I tell a 
story I find that it has grown longer. Some of 
them, so I ve been told, have no end." 

“Oh," said George, “but they must have an 
end, however long they are ! They generally 
end with ‘ and so they married and lived happily 
ever after.’" 

“ I never heard that kind of story. It couldn’t 
end that way if you were telling a story about 
a sausage. Sausages don’t marry, do they ?" 
And the giant laughed until all the echoes 
joined in with “ Iia , ha ! Ho, ho !" 

“ Is the story you are going to tell me about 
a sausage?" asked George. 

The giant did not reply, but after a short 
pause he began: “ Once there was a sausage. 
It was the most beautiful sausage I ever saw. 
Everybody loved it. It belonged to a prince 

137 


Puck’s Broom 

who was very, very rich. He had so many 
sausages that he was never able to count them, 
and lie had to go long past twelve times in the 
multiplication table even then. 

“ This sausage was large, round, and covered 
all over with gold paper to keep it from catching 
cold. It was rather delicate when it was young, 
but as it grew up-” 

“ Sausages don't grow up ! ” exclaimed George 
in surprise. 

“ Don’t interrupt me,” answered the giant. 
“ As it grew up it became stronger and more 
beautiful every day. The prince was never tired 
of looking at it and admiring it. 

“ One day he thought it was time for him to 
get married, and so he wrote a letter to a lovely 
princess who lived not far away, and asked her 
if she would accept his hand and his sausages. 

“The princess, however, was not very fond of 
sausages. She had once been ill after eating 
them, and had never cared for them since. So 
she wrote back and said that she was very sorry 
but she could not accept his kind invitation. 

“ The prince became very sorrowful when he 
received her letter, for she was a beautiful 
princess—almost as beautiful as his sausage. So 
he made up his mind to go and see where he 
138 



Tom Tiddler’s Ground 

could find a wife who would like both him and 
his sausages. 

“ He mounted his horse and rode away;” con¬ 
tinued the giant in a slow, sleepy voice, and 
George closed his eyes for just one minute, he 
felt so drowsy. . . . 



139 






f 













Hush! You must take forty winks 
before turning over the page. It would 
be unkind to hear the rest of the story 
before George woke up. 





CHAPTER XII 

Over the Hills and Far Away 

G EORGE woke with a start. 

“And so the princess said to the 
prince: ‘ I had no idea it was a golden 
sausage. Why didn’t you tell me that at first ? 
It makes all the difference.’ And so . . . and 
so . . .” the giant had fallen fast asleep. 

“ Of course, they married and lived happily 
ever after! ” cried George. “ Didn’t I tell 
you so ? ” 

There was no answer. Suddenly he heard 
what sounded to him like thunder. It rumbled 
and rolled, nearer and nearer, louder and 
louder. At last a tremendous clap made the 

143 



































Puck’s Broom 

stones roll down the mountain-side, and the 
trees quivered and shook in fright. 

“What shall we do, Alexander?'' exclaimed 
George, for he hated thunder ; and he wasn't 
in bed, so he couldn’t bury his head under the 
clothes. If you do this—as everybody knows 
—the thunder can t get at you, aud just rolls 
and bumps about under the bed until it gets 
tired. 

Alexander yawned and stretched himself. 
“ Oh, it’s only the old giant snoring. I don’t 
wonder, after talking so long about princesses 
and sausages. Nobody ate a sausage in the 
whole story. I wish I d been there, that’s all! 
We’d better be going. He won’t wake up for 
at least a week now.” 

Sure enough, the poor old giant was fast 
asleep, and snoring so that you could have 
heard him twenty miles oft'. You could hardly 
hear yourself speak for the noise. 

Well, it was no use waiting, so George and 
Alexander started to follow the little path 
which wound in and out, like the letter S, up 
the mountain-side. It was the easiest thing 
in the world to climb. It was as nice as going 
upstairs on a very soft carpet, up—up, until 
they were right above the fir-trees, and it 
144 


Over the Hills and Far Away 

grew colder and colder. In another moment 
they were walking on real snow ! 

“ We’re nearly at the top now, 5 ' said Alex¬ 
ander. 

George had never been up to the top of a 
mountain before. Fancy going home and 
telling everybody what he’d done! Of course 
he would have to pretend that it was really 
very difficult, just as people do in books. But 
would anyone believe him ? 

Up—up, until at last there they were right 
on the very tip-top. Far below for miles and 
miles stretched a great plain, green and beauti¬ 
ful to behold. Was it fancy, that faint sound of 
music ? 

“ Alexander, where does that music come 
from ? 55 asked George. 

“ It comes from there , 55 replied Alexander. 
“ Over there, you know . 55 

“ But I don’t know—and where is ‘ over 
there , 5 and why does nobody ever answer 
questions properly ? 55 

Alexander looked as if he were going to say, 
“ Wait and see , 55 but George looked really 
vexed—so he didn’t. 

“ We’d better go down and see , 5 he said, and 
bounded down the mountain-side. Oh, you 

145 


K 


Puck’s Broom 

have no idea how fast they ran ! It was almost 
like flying. 

At last they came to a forest of pine-trees 
through which the path seemed to lead. Into 
the forest they ran helter-skelter. There must 
have been thousands of trees; there seemed 
to be no end to them, and no way through 
except by the little path which curled in and 
out and round about. 

Curly paths are the best ; they enjoy having 
a little fun, for just as you think you are getting 
to wherever you want to go you find that the 
path has turned itself round and is staring you 
in the face. 

Straight paths just go there. They are 
rather dull unless you are in a hurry, and 
then it doesn't matter. 

This path was sometimes curly and some¬ 
times not. It never seemed to be quite sure 
what it wanted to do. At last it made up its 
mind, unrolled itself, and ran as straight as 
the straightest line right through the wood 
and out into the sun again. 

“Look there! ; cried George, pointing to 
the branch of a tree just in front of them. 
There, perched on it and shining away like 
anything, was the little weathercock ! 

146 


o ver the Hills and Far Away 

“ You’ve come at last/' he crowed. “ It's 
just time for tea. Come along!" and he 
fluttered down to the ground beside them. 

“ How did you get here?" asked George. 

“ I ve been here all the time," answered the 
weathercock. “ Where else should I be?" 

George gazed all round him ; then he caught 
sight of a little house he thought he knew, 
with the smoke curling up from its chimneys. 
“ Why, that's my house ! How did it get here ?" 

“ Really, you do ask a lot of questions," 
complained the little cock. “ The house hasn't 
moved. You've been moving. Didn't you want 
to get back here ?" 

“ Yes, of course, but—oh, well, I don't under¬ 
stand. I thought we were going somewhere 
else all the time." 

“ There is no such place as ‘ somewhere else ’ 
that I ever heard of," said the cock. “ Where 
did you expect to get to ? You said you wanted 
to get home, and here you are, aren't you ?" 

Alexander ran on ahead and disappeared 
through the garden gate. George waited for a 
moment to watch the cock fly up to his little 
perch on the roof again, and then went in. Tea 
was spread on the table just as usual. Oh, it 
was good to be home again ! There was no time 

147 


Puck’s Broom 

for talking. George put down his sack, which 
he had held in his hand all this time and quite 
forgotten. What's the good of talking at tea- 
time, except to say “Yes, please,” and “Thank 
you ” ? Besides, it is rude to talk with your 
mouth full, and if you are enjoying your tea 
your mouth is full all the time. Anyway, that 
is what George thought. He didn't even stop to 
see if Alexander was getting anything to eat. 

At last he finished, and Alexander, who had 
found some biscuits somewhere, licked the last 
crumb from his nose. 

“ Don't forget your sack, George,” he said, in 
a queer kind of voice. 

George gave a start of surprise, then picked 
up the sack from the floor. It had grown 
quite, quite small, and weighed almost nothing 
at all. He opened it, and there inside was— 
what do you think ?—a heap of golden-coloured 
leaves! 

He burst out laughing! So this was his 
wonderful fortune! 

Alexander gazed at him, and neither of them 
said a word for a moment. 

“ I see, " said George. “ I think I see. My 
fortune isn't made of gold at all. Well, I don’t 
mind a little bit. The sack was very heavy to 
148 


Over the Hills and Far Away 

carry at first, and I felt as cross as cross could 
be. I’ll put these leaves on the fire. 5 ' 

“ No, no ! 55 cried Alexander. “ Don't do 
that! You must never throw away anything 
that Tom Tiddler has given you. It might 
bring you bad luck. . . . You know, so many 
people throw away their good fortune, and they 
never, never get a chance of finding it a second 
time. And they never find their way back here." 

“ Do you mean that other people have been 
here in the house?" asked George. 

“ No, of course not. This is your house. 
Every one has his own house here until he—or 
she—grows up. Then they don't seem to want 
to come back. They're funny people, these 
grown-ups. I often wonder whether it's wear¬ 
ing trousers and long skirts that makes such a 
difference to them." 

This was quite a long speech for Alexander, 
so he put his head down on his paws and fell 
fast asleep. 

George wanted to ask ever so many more 
questions, but all of a sudden he felt sleepy too, 
so he climbed the stairs to the dear little bed¬ 
room, lay down on the bed, and fell fast asleep. 


149 








TOMMY TIDDLER 


Tommy, Tommy Tiddler, 
Oh, so bent and old, 

Will you please to give me 
Heaps and heaps of gold ? 

No, my little master, 

If you have the mind 

To take away my treasure, 
Seek, and you will find. 

Tommy, Tommy Tiddler, 
Have you got a sack ? 

Too small are all my pockets 
To carry it all back. 

Here, my little master, 

This is deep and wide. 

Pack the treasure safely— 
Room for all inside. 

Heavy is my burden, 

Long and steep the road. 

Oh, I find my fortune 
Is too great a load ! 




CHAPTER XIII 

Sir Tristram 

I T must be very queer living in a country 
where everything happens in a topsy-turvy 
kind of way. For one thing, there would 
be no time to get dull. You cannot help feeling 
a little bit excited if you never know from one 
minute to another what o'clock it is, where you 
are, whether you are going to have your dinner 
or not, and, if you go out for a walk, what 
strange people you are likely to meet. 

George thought about all these things when 
he woke up. It must have been morning, for it 
was quite light, and the sun was shining away 
as it always seemed to shine in this country. 
Did it ever rain here ? If it did, it must have 

153 




























Puck’s Broom 

been quite a nice, gentle kind of rain—baby 
showers, not the kind that pours and pours and 
keeps you waiting with your nose flattened to 
the window-pane, wishing that it would clear 
up. It never does—until bed-time. 

The night-time is the proper time for the rain, 
only what would the people do then who sell 
umbrellas ? Fancy a world without umbrellas ! 

If it ever did rain here, what on earth would 
the giant do? He would probably catch a 
dreadful cold, and then, if he began to sneeze, 
he would blow the roof off one’s house! It 
would be much worse than the worst thunder¬ 
storm. 

Of course, nobody ever heard of a giant with 
an umbrella. If it were open, it would darken 
the whole sky worse than a fog, and fogs are bad 
enough. 

George had now been quite a long time in 
this country ; one, two—well, it was no use 
counting, for perhaps even numbers weren’t the 
same. It would be very difficult to remember 
things if the twice-times-two table were turned 
upside down. Try it and see for yourself! 

Still, though many wonderful things had 
happened, he had not found his fortune; at 
least—well, there again, those leaves in the sack 
154 


Sir Tristram 

which Alexander had told him not to throw 
away must be worth something, or what was the 
use of keeping them ? 

There was no postman either. How was he 
to write to Mother?—though, after all, George 
wasn't quite sure if he could write a long letter 
without any mistakes in spelling. Perhaps 
there wasn’t any spelling in this country. If 
that were true it would be more delightful than 
ever. 

Suddenly, “ Wuff! Wuff!” he heard Alex¬ 
anders bark! “I’m coming!” he cried, and 
jumped out of bed. He never could remember 
whether he had undressed or not when he went 
to bed. Anyway, his clothes were on—but were 
they his clothes ? Of course they were not! 

He was dressed in a suit of brown and green, 
brown the colour of the sweet-smelling earth 
and green the colour of the soft grass. A little 
cloak of the same colours lay neatly folded on 
the chair beside his bed, and a cap Avitli a long 
golden feather hung from a peg on the wall. 

How pleased George did feel with himself 
when he looked in the glass! “ I can go and 

visit the king in this suit,” he thought to him¬ 
self. “ I suppose there is a king in this country. 
Oh, there’s sure to be one somewhere about in a 

155 


Puck’s Broom 

castle, and perhaps there will be a little prince 
as well. 5 ' 

He went downstairs, two steps at a time. 
Breakfast was laid as usual, and through the 
window he could see Alexander lying at full 
length licking his lips, so he had eaten his bone 
or whatever else it may have been. 

Breakfast was soon over, and George was 
ready once more for all sorts of adventures. He 
went out into the garden, but lo and behold, 
Alexander had disappeared! 

He whistled and called for some time, but it 
was all of no use. Alexander had gone off to 
look for adventures himself, and would be sure 
to return by and by. 

The little golden cock was turning round in 
the breeze, but although George waited for some 
time, hoping that he would fly down to earth 
again, it was all in vain. 

“ I suppose I must go out by myself this 
morning," thought George. “ I'll just go 
straight on as usual until I find a road to 
somewhere. It s sure to be all right." 

He went off toward the wood and turned 
down the first path he saw. It went straight 
ahead, for a wonder, and after some time he 
saw, sure enough, a little sign-post. 

156 


Sir Tristram 

Written on it in large letters, so that it was 
easy enough even for small boys to read, was: 

TO THE CASTLE OF THE THOUSAND 

TOWERS 

“ I say ! ” said George. “ A thousand towers ! 
Why, that’s ten times one hundred 1 Whoever 
lives in a castle like that, I wonder/’ 

He lost no time in running on, until he 
found himself on a broad white road which 
seemed to stretch for miles and miles ahead as 
far as he could see. He stood still for a moment, 
thinking of the best plan for travelling such a 
long distance. Suddenly he heard a Jingle, 
jingle! Trot , trot! and there, coming toward 
him out of another part of the wood, w T as a 
knight on horseback. 

George knew he was a knight, because he had 
often seen pictures of knights in the olden days, 
clad in armour, with long plumes flowing from 
their helmets. 

This knight might have stepped out of a 
picture-book. He wore a great sword at his 
side, and carried a long spear with a sharp 
point. When he saw George he pulled up his 
horse and spoke in a kindly voice: “Well, my 
young squire, and whither are you bound ? ” 


157 


Puck’s Broom 

George took off his cap. “ If you please, I am 
going to the Castle of a Thousand Towers. Can 
you tell me if it is very far away ? ” 

The knight looked down at him and smiled. 
“ How many miles to Babylon ?” he asked. 

“ Why, that's in the nursery-rhyme book ! ” 
cried George. 

“ Ah ! ” replied the knight. “ It s sure to be 
true, then. Nothing like a good rhyme, is 
there ? I’m bound in the same direction, so you 
had better get up behind me and we can travel 
together.” 

He bent down and lifted George into the 
saddle, and off they went. 

“ I suppose this is a real war-horse—what the 
books call a charger, isn't it?” asked George, 
holding on tight. 

“ Yes, of course,” replied the knight. “ He’s 
the finest horse in the land. He can carry me 
for days and days and never tire.” 

“Do you really ride for days and days on 
horseback, seeking adventure ? ” George felt 
quite excited at the thought. 

“ Yes. You can’t be a knight, you know, 
unless you seek adventures. I’m looking for 
dragons at present. You haven't seen one here¬ 
abouts, have you ? ” 

158 



Sir Tristram 

George was silent for a moment. What was 
he to say ? If he told the knight about his 
friend the dragon something horrid was sure to 
happen, and he was such a friendly dragon too ! 

At last he said : “ I don’t expect there are any 
dragons near here ; not any dangerous dragons, 
I mean. Some dragons are quite friendly, you 
know.” 

The knight laughed. “ Dragons are meant to 
be killed. They’re always doing wicked things 
—carrying off beautiful princesses or breathing 
fire and burning up whole villages. I don’t call 
that very friendly, do you ? ” 

After this they rode on for some time in 
silence. At last George asked: “ Have you 
ever been to the castle ? ” 

“No. I have never been in this part of the 
country before. I never stay in the same place 
for long. When I do I shall hang up my sword, 
spear, and shield and turn my good horse out 
to rest. My work will be finished then.” 

They rode on again, jingle , jingle , trot , trot , 
along the road and across an open plain, with 
not a house or a human being in sight. The 
knight began to sing, first in a very low voice 
as if to himself, and then louder, so that George 
could hear the words : 


159 



Puck’s Broom 

“ Sword, sword, 

Gleaming so bright, 

Sword, sword, 

Aid me in the fight. 

Out of the scabbard 
And sturdily smite! 

“ Shield, shield, 

Guard me ’gainst blow, 

Shield, shield, 

Of oncoming foe. 

Keep me unscathed 
Wherever I go! 

“ Lance, lance, 

Steady and true, 

Lance, lance, 

Pierce through and through. 

Into the battle 
I’ll charge, lance, with you! ” 

The horse seemed to trot in time with the 
melody, and George nodded his head as he 
had seen Father doing when he was listening 
to Mother playing the piano after dinner. 
Nidy nody nid , nod —he kept on nid-nodding 
until he woke up with a jerk and found that 
he must have been half asleep. 

“Look, there's the castle!'' said the knight, 
pointing straight in front of him. 

There it was, sure enough ! It stood all by 
itself on a hill, round whose grassy sides a road 
160 


Sir Tristram 

wound and curved up to the great gates. 
These gates were made of some bright metal, 
and on the top of each was carved a great 
crown. Whether there were really one thou¬ 
sand towers or not it is impossible to say, but 
there were towers everywhere, all shining like 
burnished gold in the bright sunshine. 

As they drew nearer they could hear the 
blare of trumpets. Presently the gates swung 
open without a sound, and the trumpeters, 
mounted on white horses, came riding through, 
playing such stirring music that George felt 
as if he wanted to wave his cap and cheer. 

They formed up in two lines, one on each 
side of the road ; the knight rode through the 
gates into the courtyard. Here he dismounted 
and lifted George down from the saddle. 

“ Here we are at last! ” he said. 

A long flight of marble steps led up to the 
entrance. The knight took George by the 
hand, and up they went, ever so high, together. 
At the top stood two soldiers in armour. They 
saluted, and the door of the castle opened as if 
by magic. 


L 


161 















I 



CHAPTER XIV 

At Court 

T HEY found themselves in a great hall. 
It was so great that they could only see 
the roof by almost bending backward. 
If you imagine that it was anything like the 
hall at home you are greatly mistaken. 

The floor was made of shining wood, and 
marble pillars of different colours towered up 
above them to the great glass-domed roof. It 
would take a whole week to tell you all the 
wonders there were to be seen. Pictures of 
kings and queens, of knights in armour and 
lovely ladies ; mirrors, fountains full of goldfish, 
cages full of singing-birds—all the riches of the 
world seemed to be here. 


163 




























Puck’s Broom 

The two walked on hand in hand for a long 
way without meeting a single person, and George 
was just going to ask if anybody lived there 
when from behind a curtain there came toward 
them a man clad in scarlet and gold, carrying 
a long white wand in his hand. He bowed 
solemnly and, holding back the curtain, said : 
“ The King, my master, bids you welcome. Be 
pleased to enter and refresh yourselves after 
your journey.” 

He stood on one side to let them pass through 
into the dining-room, where a meal was already 
laid. After taking off his armour the knight sat 
down, looking as if he were quite accustomed to 
dining in castles. He told George later on that 
kings always expected you to eat and drink 
directly you arrived, and were very vexed if 
you didn’t. 

“ I don’t think people can go and dine with 
our King like this/' said George, “ but I expect 
that’s because there are no knights. At least, 
I haven’t heard of any.” 

“I expect you would find them if you knew 
where to look for them,” replied his friend. 

“ There used to be knights in King Arthur’s 
time,” said George. “Mother reads to me all 
about the Round Table out of a book at home. 
164 


At Court 

There was Sir Launcelot ancl Galahad ; and oh, 
please, would you mind telling me your name? 
Mine is George/' 

“A very good name too. My name—but I 
cannot tell you that yet awhile. I am on a 
quest, and my real name I may not tell.” 

George gazed at him. “ I think you look 
like Sir Tristram. May I call you by that name, 
please ? ” 

The knight smiled. “'Tis a great name, and 
a great knight bore it; so, if it please you, 
Tristram I will be to you, but to you alone." 

“ Oh, it's a secret between ourselves then! 
. . . Will you take me with you on your quest?" 

“ You are full young to be a squire, but you 
too are in search of adventure, are you not?" 
asked Sir Tristram. 

“Yes, I'm seeking my fortune," replied 
George. 

“ I expect it's not far off. We will look for 
it together," and the knight smiled kindly. 

Then they set to work and ate all the good 
things which had been provided for them. The 
gentleman in scarlet and gold—who, Sir Tristram 
told George in a whisper, was the chamberlain 
—reappeared, and bowing solemnly, said : “ The 
King hopes that you are feeling refreshed 

165 



Puck’s Broom 

from your journey, and wishes to hear of your 
adventures.” He then turned and led the way 
through another door. 

They followed him down a long passage and 
found themselves in the presence of the King. 
He was standing quite alone and without his 
crown on, but you could see that he was a real 
king. He bade them welcome and listened 
attentively while Sir Tristram related his 
adventures. 

“And you, young squire?” he said, turning 
with a smile to George. “ Are you, too, following 
a quest ? ” 

“ I am seeking my fortune, your Majesty,” 
replied George. 

The King was silent for a while, as if in 
thought. 

The windows of the room looked out upon a 
fair country of great forests, fields of waving 
corn, and hills covered with vineyards. George 
thought that it would be a splendid place to 
come to for the summer holidays. 

“ To-night,” said the King, “ I hold my court, 
and all those who seek their fortunes or are 
looking for adventure are welcome. I shall hope 
to see you both,” and with a kindly nod he bade 
them farewell. 

166 


At Court 

George dined again with Sir Tristram, and 
the dinner was delicious. He wondered what 
was going to happen, but didn’t like to ask any 
questions. He felt just a little bit lonely, too, 
without Alexander. 

After dinner was over the chamberlain led 
them down the hall and up a great staircase, 
so wide that eight people abreast could have 
walked up it. He paused for a moment be¬ 
fore two folding doors, over which hung thick 
curtains edged with gold embroidery, and then, 
bowing low, said : “ I pray you enter.' 7 

The doors flew open and the two friends 
entered. They found themselves in a great 
room ablaze with light, but without a single 
person in it. Suddenly George caught sight 
of the King sitting on a throne at the far end 
of the room. He looked so lonely and tired 
that George felt ever so sorry for him. 

At the foot of the throne stood two trumpeters, 
who played delightful music as George and 
Sir Tristram stepped toward the King and 
bowed low. 

“ Welcome ! 77 said the King. “ Welcome ! Ye 
seek adventure, noble knight and squire, in 
which to gain renown for your arms. Here 
ye will find adventure enough for the bravest. 77 

167 


Puck’s Broom 

He bade them be seated, and then he spoke 
as follows: 

“Many years ago, when my father reigned 
over this country, there lived a mighty magi¬ 
cian. He was very rich, much richer than my 
father, and very proud. His wife was dead, and 
he lived with an only daughter, who was said 
to be very beautiful but very bad-tempered. 

“ My father had never seen them, but my 
grandfather had often told him that this 
magician, who was called Xystipos, might 
come to pay a visit as soon as his daughter 
was fully grown up. 

“ But alas! there came a great sickness, and 
my father and mother both died and left me 
to reign alone. 

“Now there lived in a country not far from 
here a princess, the daughter of my father’s 
old friend the king of that country. Both 
her parents and my parents wished us to 
marry, and indeed we were both willing, for 
we loved one another. 

“ When I became King I paid a visit to 
their country, and the marriage was then 
arranged to take place in a few weeks. 

“ But shortly after my return a messenger 
arrived who announced that Xystipos was on his 
168 


At Court 

way to pay me a visit. He arrived the next day. 
Nobody saw him enter the castle, or knew how 
he had travelled such a great distance. 

“ He was a tall, dark man, with a long black 
beard and eyes which glowed like fire. His 
voice was deep and mysterious. He spoke 
but seldom, and seemed as if he could read 
one’s very thoughts. 

“ I wondered why he had come, until one 
day he said to me: 4 Why have you not 

married ? This country needs a queen.’ 

“ I told him that I was soon to marry the 
Princess Fortunata, to which he replied: ‘ No, 
that will never do. She is too young, too poor. 
You need a wife who is rich, beautiful, wise. 
Such a maid is my daughter. Marry her, and 
you shall be the richest and most powerful 
king in this land.’ He smiled a smile that 
made me shiver with fear. 

“ ‘ I cannot! ’ 1 cried. ‘ I love the Princess 
Fortunata! ’ 

“ He smiled again and said no more. 

“ But the next day, and every day for a week, 
he asked me to marry his daughter. I told 
him each time that it was quite impossible. 

“ At last he said : ‘ I return now to my home. 
You shall marry my daughter in the end whether 

169 


Puck’s Broom 

you like it or not. Farewell ! ? He was gone 
before I could say a word in reply. 

“ Now on the very day on which the Princess 
and I were to be married there arose a great 
storm, and darkness fell over the whole city. 
When the sky grew clear again the Princess 
had vanished. Although we searched high 
and low, nobody could find her. 

“ I returned at last to my home, miserable 
and heart-broken. There I found a letter from 
Xystipos. No one knew how it had come. In 
it was written : 4 If you would win back your 
Princess, you must seek and find her/ That 
was all/' 



170 












While the King paused for a moment the 
trumpeters played: 



































CHAPTER XV 

The Quest Begins 

T HAT happened five years ago,” con¬ 
tinued the King, “ and from that day 
to this I have never been able to find 
out where the magician lives. I fear that 
Fortunata is lost for ever! ” 

Sir Tristram knelt before the King. “ Grant 
me this quest, I pray you, sire ! ” 

The King sat in silence for a moment. “ Be 
it so ! ” he replied. “ But I fear you little know 
the dangers and the trials which await you. 
Arms and money I can provide, but in no other 
way can I help you. If you succeed, then ask 
of me what you will and it is yours. Many 
have set out on this quest, but none return. 

173 







































Puck’s Broom 

Now my court is deserted, for a sad king has but 
few friends.” 

It was a clear, sunny morning. Sir Tristram 
and George were already upon their way to seek 
the enchanted Princess. 

George was riding—actually riding !—upon a 
beautiful pony which the King had given him. 
You may imagine how proud he felt! 

In which direction should they go ? Sir 
Tristram and he talked it over, and, as it did 
not matter very much, they rode down the 
hill and out on to the plain, hoping by and 
by to come upon a good road to somewhere. 

“ It will be all right,” said George. “ On 
we go! ” 

He had scarcely said this when he caught 
sight of a little weathercock perched up on the 
top of a house roof. To be sure! His friend 
the weathercock had told him to ask any of 
his family he might meet to show him the way. 

This weathercock was pointing straight down 
a long road across the plain, and when George 
told Sir Tristram this he nodded his head and 
said: “ Tis well! The weathercock knows the 
way better than we do.” 

They rode and rode until at last they came 
174 


The Quest Begins 

to a great forest. And now a dreadful thing 
happened, for when they were right in the 
middle of it they lost their way. 

Sir Tristram dismounted. “ Let us eat and then 
rest awhile. We shall find our way by and by. 
Here the adventure begins, young squire.” 

So they sat down under a great tree and ate 
and drank. After they had finished their meal 
Sir Tristram took off some of his armour and 
lay down on the soft mossy bank. After a time 
he fell asleep. 

George nearly fell asleep too. He felt only 
half awake, and lay on his back listening to 
the sighing of the wind in the trees and the 
twittering of the birds. Sometimes it sounded 
as if they were talking to one another, and 
sometimes as if they were laughing. Who ever 
heard birds laugh ? 

He felt in his pocket for his knife, as he 
wanted to try to make a whistle out of a piece 
of wood as Father did. In one pocket he found 
nothing and in the other some leaves, which he 
took out to throw away. 

“ Why, these must be Tom Tiddler s leaves! ” 
he thought. “ Alexander said that I wasn't 
to throw them away. I'll put one of them in 
my cap.” 


175 


/ Puck’s Broom 

He fixed one carefully in the side of his cap, 
and put the others back in his pocket. Then, 
all of a sudden, he seemed to hear voices, 
quite tiny voices, talking high up in the air 
above him. 

“ Yes !” said the first voice, “it is a long way 
to the magician’s castle.” 

George sat up and listened eagerly. 

“Nobody has ever found the way there yet,” 
said the second voice. 

“ That’s because they are so stupid,” was the 
reply. “You must follow the sun until it sinks, 
and then follow it again when it rises, until you 
arrive.” 

“No, no!” exclaimed another voice. “First 
of all you must cross the black lake, and that is 
impossible.” 

“Then there is the glass mountain to climb,” 
cried a fourth voice. “That’s ever so slippery, 
you know! ” 

“And then there are the two guardians of 
the gate. Nobody ever passed them alive! ” 
The fifth voice said this. 

“And even if you get into the castle, that’s 
no use, for it is enchanted ground,” said a 
squeaky voice. “You have to know the magic 
word, and nobody knows that.” 

176 


The Quest Begins 

“ Pooh ! Rubbish !” answered a great big 
voice. “ The weathercock who sits on the very 
tip-top of the highest tower of the castle knows 
it. But nobody has ever asked him yet.” 

Then the voices were silent. George stood 
up and looked all round him, but he could 
see nobody. As he looked up into the trees a 
few birds flew away, and then there was silence 
in the forest. 

“Well, we know the way to the castle now,” 
he thought. “ Oh, what an adventure it's going 
to be! Won’t Alexander be sorry that he 
missed it! ” 


M 


177 







DOUBLE YOUR THUMBS 


Oh, fear not, brave knight, 

Fear no danger nor trouble. 

To guard against witchcraft 

Your thumbs you must double! 

If ogres terrific 

With loud fee-faw-fums 
Dismay you, I pray you, 

Oh, double your thumbs ! 





CHAPTER XVI 

The Giant Again 

S IR TRISTRAM and George journeyed 
onward, following the sun through the 
great forest. At last they came into open 
country, and found themselves on a rocky road 
which dipped down-hill as if it never meant to 
stop. It led them into a valley, and then on 
again into a deep gorge, which came to an end 
on the shores of a great lake. 

“ The black lake ! ” cried George. “ Look, it’s 
as black as pitch ! What a horrid place ! ” 

Sir Tristram dismounted and gazed around 
him. “ I marvel how we shall ever fare across 
it. I cannot swim, and even if I could I must 

181 






























Puck’s Broom 

leave my armour behind. The doughtiest knight 
cannot fight in his doublet/' 

George looked out on to the waters of the 
lake, but it was so wide that he could not see 
the other side. High above his head towered 
rugged cliffs as black as the waters of the lake, 
and in the distance he caught sight of a mighty 
pillar standing erect on the summit. 

He looked again. “ I do believe it's the old 
giant! " he cried. 

“ A giant!"—and in a moment Sir Tristram 
was on his feet and had drawn his mighty 
two-handed sword. 

“ Oh, please , don't!" implored George. “ He's 
a friend of mine. He's quite a good giant. He 
wouldn’t harm anybody." 

“How can that be ?" asked Sir Tristram. “ A 
good giant ? . . . Still, if you know him I must 
take your word for it." 

“ Coo-ee! " cried George. “ Coo-ee ! " His 
voice echoed against the rocky walls as if a 
hundred voices were all crying “Coo-ee!” 
together. 

The pillar moved, stopped for a moment, and 
then moved on again, and then— plop! —into 
the lake went one of the giant’s feet, and then 
plop! went the other. He was now in the 
182 


The Giant A»ain 

o 

water right up to his neck, so you can tell from 
that how deep it was! 

“ Good-evening! 57 rumbled his great voice. 
“I’ve been waiting for you ever so long. You 
want to cross the lake, I suppose ? Come along 
then ! 77 And he stretched out his huge hand. 

“ Come along, Sir Tristram! 77 commanded 
George. “ It 7 s all right. There’s heaps of 
room on his hand for both the horses and 
ourselves. 7 ’ 

They led the horses on to his outstretched 
hand, and without another word the giant began 
to wade across the lake. On and on he went 
until they lost sight of the shore ; on and on 
until the water began to grow shallower again. 
After an hour’s journey they arrived, and the 
giant lowered them gently on to dry land. 

“ I must go for a run to dry myself, 77 he said, 
and in one—two—three tremendous strides he 
was out of sight. 

Sir Tristram leant on his sword. “ In faith, 
he is a mighty giant. I fear me that even my 
trusty blade would be of little avail against 
him. 77 

George smiled. “ Oh no! He’s fearfully 
strong, but he’s very kind, although he does tell 
very long stories.” 


183 



Puck’s Broom 

“Stories?’ 1 ’ asked Sir Tristram. He had 
hardly spoken when the giant was at their side 
again. 

“ I’m quite dry now ! ” he roared. He seemed 
to be very pleased with himself, and smiled a 
huge smile as he asked : “ Did I hear you saying 
that you wanted to hear a story? Wait a 
minute ! ”—and before they guessed what he was 
about he was lying on the ground with his head 
close up to them. 

“ I’m afraid it’s going to be very long,” 
wdiispered George to Sir Tristram, who sat with 
his sword between his knees, gazing at the giant 
in astonishment. 

“Well, once upon a time there was a 
prince-” 

“ Had he a sausage ? ” asked George. 

“Yes. How did you know? . . . Oh, I must 
have told you that story before. It doesn’t 
matter, for I never tell it twice in the same way. 
My stories are always changing ; the older they 
are the longer they grow." 

George sighed. “ Oh dear! This is going 
to be a dreadfully long story. Never mind ; I 
missed most of it the last time, and perhaps he’ll 
go to sleep again.” 

The giant continued : “ Now this prince was 
184 



The Giant Again 

very rich. He had twenty castles, each with 
two hundred rooms, and a bicycle/ 5 

“A bicycle? That’s nothing! 55 said George. 
“ I 5 m going to have a bicycle myself. 55 

“ Don't interrupt! 55 grumbled the giant. 
“ This was a special bicycle. It had twenty-five 
wheels. 55 

“ But it wouldn't be a bicycle, then. A 
bicycle has only two wheels, 55 cried George. 

“ What was it, then, if it wasn’t a bicycle? * 5 

George thought for a moment. “ I don't 
know, 55 he replied. 

“There you are! You don't know. Of 
course it was a bicycle. I've told this story, 
oh, hundreds of times, and I've always called 
it a bicycle. That's a sure proof!" The giant 
smiled triumphantly. 

“ I beg your pardon for interrupting you," 
said George politely. 

“Not at all. You see, you know now what a 
bicycle is. You didn't before I told you. . . . 
Well, this prince went out one day on his bicycle 
to hunt-" 

Sir Tristram looked quite startled. “ To 
hunt ?" he exclaimed. 

“Yes, to hunt. Princes always go out hunt¬ 
ing. . . . Well, he hunted and he hunted and 

185 



Puck’s Broom 

he hunted for weeks and weeks and weeks. . . 
Here the giant paused. “ Oh, I forgot. She 
said I was not to delay you by telling stories. 
So you’d better be going on your way.' 7 

“ Did She send you here ? 77 asked George, 
who knew what the giant meant. 

“ What a lot of questions you ask! Hurry 
up or you'll be late. 77 And without another 
word the giant rose, stepped over a high 
mountain which stood in his way, and 
disappeared. 

“Come along, Sir Tristram!" said George, 
“ I ll tell you all about it as we ride along.” 



186 


THE SONG OF A SAUSAGE 


A pig lived in a lordly sty ; 

A fat, fat pig was he, 

And every day he used to try 
To eat enough for three. 

Sing hey, sing ho, 

I’d have you know 
He ate enough for three ! 

He grew so fat, he grew so round, 

As round as round could be. 

He weighed at least five hundred pound, 
And, oh, so proud was he! 

Sing hey, sing ho, 

I’d have you know 
He weighed as much as three! 

Now all the pigs from far and near 
AVere jealous as could be. 

And oh, they shed a bitter tear 
At breakfast, lunch, and tea. 

Sing ho, sing hey, 

Alack-a-day, 

A doleful sight to see! 

For though they ate with all their might, 
It was no use, for he 

Ate all the day and half the night 
As greedy as could be ! 


187 


Puck’s Broom 

Sing ho, sing hey, 

Yes, all the day 
He stuffed right greedily ! 

One day the farmer to his wife, 

The farmer said, said he: 

“ Fetch me my very sharpest knife, 
The knife as sharp as three ! 

Sing hey, sing ho, 

Now quickly go 
And fetch my knife to me ! ” 

He took the knife, and to the sty 
He went as quick could be. 

“ The fattest pig to-day must die, 
The pig as fat as three. 

Sing ho, sing hey, 

We’ll have to-day 
His sausages for tea ! ” 



CHAPTER XVII 

The Arrival at the Castle 

I T was the end of the third day when at 

%/ 

last the two travellers espied a hill rising 
out of the plain. It shone and glittered 
as if it were made of diamonds, so they guessed 
that this must be the rays of the sun shining 
on the glass hill where the magician lived. 

As they came closer they could see that the 
hill was very high and steep, and that there 
was no road leading up to the castle on the 
top. 

“We can never win to the summit of that 
hill,” said Sir Tristram in a melancholy voice. 

“ Oh, it will be all right. She knows all 
about it. She sent the giant to help us over 
the black lake, I’m sure," said George cheerfully. 

189 














































Puck’s Broom 

But he certainly did not like the hill at all. It 
was steeper than a switchback, and you know T 
how steep that is ! 

At last they arrived at the foot of the hill. 
It was so slippery that their horses stumbled 
and nearly fell at the first step. 

“That’s no good/' said George. “We must 
just sit down and wait." 

They dismounted and waited. Nothing hap¬ 
pened for a long time. “I do wish She were 
here ! ” sighed George. 

There was a whizz! overhead, and down 
swooped the witch on her broomstick. 

“What a long time it takes for little boys 
to learn to ask nicely for what they want," 
she said, with a smile. “Jump up! You can 
leave your horses behind. They will look after 
themselves." 

Up they climbed without delay, for Sir 
Tristram was too astonished to say a single 
word. 

Whizz! —off* they went again. Up — up— 
up — and then, in the twinkling of an eye, 
there they were on top ! 

“Here we are!" said the witch. “Off you 
get! I expect we shall meet again before long. 
Don't forget to ask for what you want "—and, 
190 


The Arrival at the Castle 

with a smile which was more crooked than ever, 
she disappeared. 

“This is indeed a mighty adventure/' said 
Sir Tristram. “ See, yonder lies the magician's 
castle!" 

George looked in the direction in which the 
knight pointed, and there was indeed the 
strangest castle he had ever seen. It was built 
of polished glass, and all the windows looked 
like great wide-open eyes which were staring at 
them. The gates were made of brass in the 
shape of letters of the alphabet, all mixed up 
together. 

On the top of the highest tower stood a 
weathercock, a fierce-looking bird with green 
eyes and a long black beak. But fiercer still 
looked the two guardians of the gate. These 
were two enormous dogs with two great round 
eyes like blazing fires. They were almost as 
large as elephants. 

Suddenly they caught sight of the two 
strangers and, opening their huge mouths, they 
growled, “ Grrrr /" It was enough to make 
you shiver and shake with fear. 

Sir Tristram drew his sword. “ Methinks this 
will be a great battle," he said. “Stay you 

191 


Puck’s Broom 

here, and if I do not return, still I shall have 
fallen as a knight should fall.” 

“No, no!” cried George. “Don't you re¬ 
member what the witch told me ? I must ask 
for what I want. I want the dragon ! . . . Oh, 
look ! ” and there, sure enough, in front of them 
was his old friend the dragon, blinking his eyes 
and wagging his tail. 

“ I thought you would want me before long, 
George,” he said. “ Do tell that friend of yours 
to put away his sword. It looks dreadfully 
sharp, and I never did like swords. It isn’t 
any good here, for you are on enchanted ground. 
Just let me get my breath, and I ll soon finish 
this business.” 

He lay there and panted, while the two 
great dogs growled and growled worse than 
ever. 

“ Nasty beasts ! ” said the dragon. “ I mustn’t 
go too close to them or else they might bite me. 
I’ll give them a taste of something they won’t 
like.” 

He began to crawl toward the dogs very 
slowly, and when he was within a few yards of 
them his mouth opened wide like a great pit, 
and out shot a tremendous flame. One ! Two ! 

George rubbed his eyes. The dragon was 
192 


The Arrival at the Castle 

lying there licking his scales, but the dogs had 
disappeared. Two small heaps of white ashes lay 
in the place where they had been. 

“ That's all right!” said the dragon. “Now 
you can walk in, but don’t forget the password.” 



N 


193 









I 



CHAPTER XVIII 

IVhat the IVeathercock Said 

T HE password—what could it be ? George 
puzzled and puzzled until lie almost grew 
dizzy with thinking, but no, he couldn't 
remember. Then, at last — of course ! The 
weathercock on top of the castle knew. He 
remembered the voices which he had heard 
talking in the forest and what they had said. 

But how could he get the weathercock to tell 
him ? He whistled and called, but all in vain. 
Nothing whatever happened. 

Then suddenly the thought came into his 
head: “Why, those voices I heard in the forest 

195 






















































Puck’s Broom 

must have been birds talking. . . . Why didn't 
I hear them before that day? . . . They must 
have been magic birds . . . perhaps fairies ? . . . 
Oh, I wonder if Tom Tiddler s leaves had any¬ 
thing to do with it ? I know I put one in my 
cap. . . . Where is my cap ? " 

He bent down and picked it up from the 
ground. The leaf was still where he had placed 
it. He placed it on his head, and then, looking 
up at the weathercock, cried “ Coo-eet” 

The cock turned round slowly and, lixing 
its green eye upon George, asked: “ Who 

calls ? ” 

“ A friend ! " George thought this was quite 
the right tiling to say. It was the answer .to 
the sentry's “Who goes there?" He felt that 
as he was squire to a knight it was as good as 
being a soldier. 

The cock went on turning. At last: “You’re 
George, aren't you?" he said. 

“ Yes," replied George. “ I met your brother 
not so long ago. He lives close by my house in 
the wood." 

“Ah! said the cock, and went on turning 
and turning. 

“ I hope he won't be long," thought George. 
“ He doesn't seem as nice as my friend." 

196 


What the Weathercock Said 

“What do you want? said a voice in his 
ear. 

He gave a jump, for there was the cock 
standing by his side. 

“I suppose you want the password? She 
brought you here, so it will be all right. I must 
whisper it—nobody but you may hear it.” The 
cock turned, whispered in George's ear, and 
before you could wink an eyelid was back on top 
of the castle. 

“ Where's Sir Tristram?” George looked 
everywhere, but there was no sign of him. 

At last, after he had walked quite a long 
way, he caught sight of him and the dragon 
actually — yes, actually fighting! He was 
horrified, for the dragon was leaping, turning, 
and twisting in all directions, while Sir 
Tristram's sword was hissing and flashing 
through the air like lightning. 

“ They’ll hurt one another, I'm sure ! ” And 
George ran as near to them as he dared, calling 
out: “ Stop ! Oh, stop ! ” 

The dragon stopped at once and called out : 
“ It's all right! Don’t be afraid. I’m only show¬ 
ing your friend one or two tricks in fighting. 
We shouldn’t dream of hurting one another.” 


197 


Puck’s Broom 

“This is indeed a glorious dragon,” said Sir 
Tristram, leaning on his sword and smiling. 
“ Little did I think that I should ever be friends 
with one. He has taught me much that I did 
not know before.” 

“Oh, so you were only pretending?” George 
laughed, and then said solemnly: “ I’ve learnt 
the password, but it's ever so difficult, and I'm 
not to tell it to anybody else.” 

The knight did not answer him for a moment. 
“ I think then, young squire, it would be best 
for you to go upon this quest alone. Your friend 
the dragon has told me that She wishes it.” 

“ Oh ! ” cried George. “ All by myself? ” 

The dragon laughed. “Well wait here for 
you, George. You came to seek your fortune, 
you know, and you're not far off it now. You're 
getting warm ! ” 

“ All right! ” answered George. “ If you hear 
me cry 4 Coo-ee / ' you must come to my help 
at once. This is going to be a tremendous ad¬ 
venture. Alexander doesn't know how much he 
is missing. Here goes ! ”—and waving his hand 
to the two friends, he ran off. He looked back 
once and saw that they had again commenced 
to play at fighting, and then he ran on again 
until he came to the great gates. 

198 


What the Weathercock Said 

He paused for a moment to repeat the pass¬ 
word over to himself; then said it out aloud. 
The gates swung open with a clang, and, as he 
walked through, shut behind him. 



199 


















Whisper this! 

It is the password, and this is hoiv 
you must say it. Stand with both 
feet firmly pressed together, crook the 
little finger on each hand into one 
another, and say three times 

backward: 
ABRACADABRA 

For goodness sake don't let anyone hear 
you ! It is a very powerful charm, and 
might—if a wicked magician were any¬ 
where near at hand—lift your house 
up into the air and pop it down into a 
sandy desert, Jive thousand miles away ! 



G EORGE never was able to remember 
clearly what happened in the magician’s 
castle. He used afterward to tell the 
story in bits, and Mother put all the bits 
together, little by little, just as one sews a 
counterpane, until there was a whole story. 
How long he was there, whether he felt afraid, 
whether it was only a dream, whether it was 
all magic—who knows ?—and, after all, what 
does it matter ? 

He first remembers that he was going up¬ 
stairs. Not ordinary stairs, you know, like 
those in your house. No; these stairs were 

203 
















































Puck’s Broom 

quite different. They were moving all the time. 
As fast as he mounted one step, two and even 
three steps moved up, so that he was always 
farther and farther away from the top. He was 
very puzzled for some time to know what to 
do. So at last he stopped and repeated the 
magic charm. Then the steps began to move in 
the opposite direction. 

Now the steps had stopped moving, and began 
to curl and wind in the most vexing manner. 
Round and round they went, and round and 
round went George, until he was quite giddy. 

“ These stairs are always coming back to the 
same place, I declare ! " he thought. “ This will 
never do. I shall go on climbing until this time 
next year, and oh, shan’t 1 be tired ! ” 

Again he repeated the charm, and the stairs 
became straight as a straight line. Up and up 
he went. Would they never end ? 

He was at the top and standing before a door 
which was closed. He turned the handle ; he 
pushed and pushed. . . . He seemed to hear 
somebody laughing, and laughing in a very 
disagreeable, ill-tempered way. It sounded as 
if it came from inside the room, or whatever it 
204 


Princess Fortunata 

was behind the door. George became very 
angry. He just hated anybody laughing at 
him. He would show them what he could do ! 

He must remember to say the charm sooner 
next time. But it was so difficult to remember 
anything in this queer place ! 

Where was he now ? There seemed to be faces 
—thousands of faces—peeping at him from every 
side, from every hole, and from every corner. 

Where had he seen these faces before? He 
couldn't tell, and yet he knew them. . . . Why, 
of course ! They were the reflections of his own 
face in mirrors, hundreds and thousands of 
mirrors! How very strange it looked! Well, 
there was nothing to be afraid of. 

The mirrors grew dull and duller, and then 
bright and brighter. George saw himself 
wherever he looked ; even the ceiling and the 
floor seemed made of glass. How horrid ! Even 
if you were very good-looking you wouldn’t like 
to see nothing but your own face, would you ? 

There must be a door somewhere. ... If he 
didn’t find the door soon he would become en¬ 
chanted, and that would never do. . . . What 
had he forgotten ? . . . Ah, the charm ! 


205 


Puck’s Broom 

He was standing on the bank of a great 
river. It was very dark, and he could scarcely 
see a foot in front of him, but he could hear 
the roar of the water as it went rushing and 
roaring by- 

Was it his fancy, or were there voices mocking 
him ? It sounded as if they were saying some¬ 
thing. “ Ooooh ! Ooooh ! Ooooh! It is so-oo- 
oo co-o-old! Hoo-oo! As co-old as i-ice ! ” 

“ I can’t swim a little bit,” thought George. 
“ Even Alexander couldn’t swim across this 
horrible river. ... I wonder if I counted ‘ one, 
two, three ! ’ and jumped in, whether I should 
be drowned. . . . One . . . two . . .” 

Could that be Alexanders bark in the far¬ 
away distance ? “Jump in, George!” the dear 
dog seemed to be saying. 

Well, this was an adventure! . . . “One, 
two . . .” 

The river had disappeared. George found 
himself in a most wonderful garden. The sun 
was shining overhead in a blue sky, and every¬ 
where he looked he could see nothing but 
flowers. . . . What a perfectly delightful scent! 
The grass was so soft, too. He must just sit 
down and rest for a moment. . . . 

206 


Princess Fortunata 

He began to feel very thirsty. . . . Why, 
there were lovely pears and apples on those 
trees over there. He must just pluck one! 
. . . He felt so tired, and it was so cool sitting 
in the shade. He could almost hear little 
voices singing a lullaby to him. . . . 

What was the good of bothering about any¬ 
thing? It was ever so jolly here. . . . Wouldn't 
it be fun if Alexander were here too ! What 
races they would run 1 ... No, they would 
just lie down together and . . . Hark! Was 
that Alexander’s bark once more? “Wake up! 
Wake up ! ” 

What a bother! But the sound kept ringing 
in his ears, and slowly — oh, so slowly ! — he 
walked toward a little door in the garden 
wall. 

He was walking down a long passage, and 
on each side of him were doors. He could 
not make up his mind which door to open. 
Never mind! It didn’t matter very much. 
Perhaps they weren’t real, but only magic 
doors. He opened the next door he came to 
and walked into ... no, not a room, but just 
a little space scarcely as large as a cupboard, 
with a door in the wall facing him. 


207 


Puck’s Broom 

He opened that, and found himself facing 
another door. 

“This is a bother!" he thought. “Just like 
a Chinese box-trick. You open one box and 
then you find another inside it, and then an¬ 
other inside that. They keep on getting smaller 
and smaller until . . . Why, this place is getting 
smaller! ” . . . And so it was! . . . He had 
hardly room to move now. 

He turned round to go back again, but 
found the door shut behind him. 

“ I'll just open one more. ' He opened it, 
and found himself in a most beautiful room, 
and there, lying on a couch fast asleep, was— 
the Princess Fortunata! Just like a story¬ 
book, isn't it ? 

Now it is just here that George’s story begins 
to get a little patchy, like the counterpane. 

He remembers trying to wake the Princess. 
She remained fast asleep in spite of all that 
he did. She was very beautiful, just like a 
pink and white rose, but he could not remem¬ 
ber what dress she wore, or what the colour 
of her hair was, or anything else at all, so you 
must make up the rest of it for yourselves. 

He woke her up at last. Did he kiss her, 
like the Prince in Sleeping Beauty ? He 
208 


Princess Fortunata 

never remembered — or said that he didn’t 
remember. I wonder! 

She opened her eyes and gazed at him, as 
if just awakening from a dream. 

What did she say? What do princesses say 
to brave knights who rescue them from en¬ 
chantment ? 

You may be sure that she said just the right 
things. Princesses always do. They are taught 
the right words to say by their governesses, in 
case they might become enchanted when they 
grow up. You never know what a fairy god¬ 
mother may do, especially if she be a bad fairy ! 

Now came the hardest part of all—to escape 
with the Princess from the enchanted castle. 

The Princess took George gently by the hand 
like a nice, kind, grown-up sister, and said : 
“We must hasten. In another moment the 
wicked magician will be here, and then we are 
lost! 

So they ran hand in hand to the door and 
down a passage. “ Faster ! ” cried the Princess, 
and George ran faster than he had ever run 
before. 

“ Faster, faster! ” cried the Princess again, 
and on and on they sped until George wondered 
if there was any end at all to the passage. 


o 


209 


Puck’s Broom 

Suddenly, boom! boom !—like the rolling of 
thunder! 

“ The magician is coming! Hasten, oh, 
hasten ! ” On and on they ran. 

Boo-oom! Closer and closer! Faster and 
faster the two ran, until it seemed as if they 
were flying through the air. 

Boom! It sounded almost in their very ears. 
They caught sight of a little door, so tiny you 
could scarcely see it, and rushed toward it ; 
George pulled it open, pushed the Princess 
through, and was just going to follow her 
when —crash ! 



210 




CHAPTER XX 


Another Party 

E was lying on a soft mossy bank, 
and Alexander—yes, Alexander !—was 
gently licking the tip of his nose. 

“ Wherever have you been?” he cried, sitting 
up and looking at the dear, dear dog in surprise 
and delight. 

“ Oh, Eve just been having a little snooze,” 
wuffed Alexander, and yawned a real doggy yawn. 

George was so pleased that he got up and 
hugged him. After Alexander had shaken 
himself, for his coat was just a little ruffled up 
after George's embrace, he sat down and smiled 

211 




































Puck’s Broom 

—such a friendly smile ! Only a dog can smile 
like that. 

“ Where have I been, Alexander ?” asked 
George. 

“ You know, George/ 5 replied Alexander. 
“ Why do you ask me ? 55 
“ Where’s the Princess ? ” 

“ At home, where she ought to be, I suppose.” 
“ Oh ! Well, where am I, now ? ” 

“ Look around you ! ” 

George looked, and there, standing just in 
front of him, was the little house. It felt like 
coming home again. . . . Home ? Ah, yes ; but 
wasn’t it time to be returning to their real 
home ? 

He got up and walked toward the house. 
“ I wish ... I wish my fortune were here! ” 
he said. “ I would like to go home and see 
Mother and Father again ! ” 

Once more they heard the sweet music, but 
louder and louder, as if it were coming toward 
them. 

“Shall I ever find my fortune, Alexander?” 
said George after tea. It was tea, not breakfast, 
so it must have been evening. 

212 


Another Party 

“There, my child ; it lies right there under 
your very nose. ' 

“Where?' 5 George looked down, and then 
remembered. “ That's what the mother said in 
the dragon's story, isn't it ? . . . Oh, dear, every¬ 
thing is so puzzling! Where is Sir Tristram ? 
Shan't I ever see him again ? ” 

“ Time for bed now !" Alexander yawned 
and stretched himself, and not another word 
would he say. 

It was nice to be in bed in this cosy little 
room. There were such jolly patterns on the 
wall-paper, and they seemed to be changing all 
the time. Sometimes there were trees and rivers, 
sometimes birds and animals, sometimes ships 
and whales. Perhaps it was a dream wall-paper. 
Would there be another adventure to-morrow? 
It would be fun to go back to the Castle of the 
Thousand Towers and visit the King. Just fancy 
if he invited George to stay with him ! Did the 
Princess get back quite safely ? 

What was happening ? 

The room seemed to be full of a soft rosy light. 
The walls seemed to be growing and spreading 
in all directions. The bed—why, it wasn't a bed 

213 



Puck’s Broom 

at all! It was a beautiful couch of soft moss, 
and the room had disappeared altogether. 

George was lying in the forest, in the middle 
of a glade surrounded by trees of all shapes 
and sizes. Music was everywhere—above him, 
around him, ebbing and flowing like the tide of 
the sea. Little voices were whispering, laughing, 
singing ; what were they saying ? Could it be : 
“ George is home at last! ” 

Why, this wasn't home ! It was . . . what 
was it ? 

Thousands and thousands of tiny lights ! They 
came on and on, until the whole glade was lit 
up as bright as day. Still there was not a soul 
to be seen ! What was that ? “ Waff! Wafff ” 
—and there was Alexander with—a green bow 
round his neck ! 

“ What are you doing here?” cried George. 

“ I've come to your party, George,” said 
Alexander, and standing on his hind legs he 
made a low bow. What next, I wonder? 

George stared at him in astonishment. 

“Ah, here are some old friends coming!” 
And Alexander bounded away as if he thought 
George understood what he meant. Some old 
friends ? 

214 



Another Party 

A blast of trumpets, and lines of trumpeters 
marched two by two into the glade. They 
formed into two lines, and then down the middle 
there came the King and his Princess—now his 
Queen—wearing their royal robes and their 
crowns ! They looked perfectly splendid ! With 
them was Sir Tristram in full armour. 

They walked up to George and shook hands 
with him. “ Thank you so much for inviting us 
to your party,” said the Queen, with a heavenly 
smile. “ I haven’t been to a party for ages and 
ages. I am so glad we are not late. What a 
sweet spot you have chosen for the entertain¬ 
ment.” 

The entertainment? What did she mean, or 
was it one of Alexander’s jokes ? 

A whirr, whirr, and there in the middle of 
the glade was the witch. 

“ Well, George ! ” she said, with a smile. “ You 
look surprised to see me. You did invite me, 
you know, so I’m not a rude old witch, whatever 
you may think. The giant’s coming too. He 
stopped to tell the storks a story, but he'll 
arrive in time for supper.” 

Supper ? So there was going to be a supper ! 

The dragon was the next guest to appear. 
He and the weathercock came—not arm in arm, 

215 



Puck’s Broom 

but—well, you know what one means by arm 
in arm when dragons are walking. They were 
both very pleased to see George, and the dragon 
was full of jokes and fun. 

Last of all came Tom Tiddler, helping old 
Father Time along, and then Alexander with 
his two friends the cats. 

“Are we all here?'' asked the witch. “We 
can’t wait for the giant. He’s always late. 
Let’s begin ! ” 

They seated themselves in a circle round 
George, and all looked at him as if they were 
expecting something. 

“Now then, George!" said the witch. “We 
are waiting to hear all about your fortune.” 

Everybody clapped their hands—not the 
dragon, the weathercock, and those without 
hands—and cried : “ Bravo ! Bravo ! ” 

George felt very shy. “ It’s a long story,” he 
began. 

“ All stories are long ; all good stories,” said a 
voice, and there was the giant peeping at them 
from behind the trees ! 

“ It’s all right,” he explained. “ I’m lying 
down, so I shan’t be in anybody’s way.” 

So George told them his story—all that you 
216 


Another Party 

have read in these pages, and everybody 
listened, and now and then told a little bit 
themselves when it came to the part which they 
knew. 

At last they came to the end. “And so they 
married and lived happily ever after !” said the 
Queen, with a smile. 

George jumped to his feet and clapped his 
hands. “ I told you I was right! ” he cried to 
the giant. “All stories end in that way.” 

“Ah, but your story isn’t finished, so I shall 
be right,” said the giant. “You’re not married, 
you know. Ha, ha ! ” 

“ Stop laughing at once! ” ordered the witch. 
“ You’ll curdle all the cream if you’re not care¬ 
ful. Laugh down in your boots and then it 
won’t matter.” 

“ I can’t,” replied the giant. “ I’ve tried, oh, 
ever so hard, and it always comes out the wrong 
way. Whatever I do is wrong.” 

“ Oh, please, don’t cry! ” begged George. 
“ I’m sure you did try. It must be difficult to 
remember that you are a giant.” 

“ It’s a long, long way to my boots,” said the 
giant. “ I expect the laughter gets tired about 
half-way, and bursts. Then, you know, it’s no 
good. When your laughter bursts it flies out of 

217 


Puck’s Broom 

your mouth before you know where you are. I 
remember-” 

“You are not to remember/' commanded the 
witch. “ It's time for supper/' 

She waved her stick, and in a flash there was 
the supper all ready laid. What a pity that all 
suppers can’t be arranged as easily as this! 

Well, they ate and they drank, and all the 
time sweet music was played by invisible 
musicians. It was far, far finer than George’s 
last birthday-party. 

After supper everybody—except the giant— 
told stories or sang songs, and Alexander 
showed them how dogs signal to one another by 
tail-wagging. 

Then there was a moment’s silence. Old 
Father Time arose and said: “I must go on 
my way once more. It is now time to say 
farewell.” 

“Stop a minute!” cried Tom Tiddler. “We 
must give George a present. Each one of us 
must give him something as a remembrance— 
or else he might forget us ! ” 

He put his hand in his pocket, drew some¬ 
thing out and presented it to George. It was 
a leaf! 

“ A leaf for remembrance! George will find 
218 




Another Party 

out what it means by and by/' he said, with a 
smile. “ Now then, it's somebody else’s turn." 

Each in turn shook hands with George and 
gave him a present. Now, what did they give? 

Last of all came the beautiful Queen. With 
a radiant smile she took George in her arms 
and kissed him. It was just like being kissed 
by sweet roses, honeysuckle, and all the frag¬ 
rant flowers you can think of! 

“ I have given him the best present of all," 
she said. “ For his end to the story is really 
the sweetest; ‘ they lived happily ever after.' 
George is a fairy boy, after all, aren't you, 
George ?" 

How madly the music was playing! Turn - 
tee-rum-tee-ticldle-tee-tmn! Almost as if one 
ought to dance to it. Yes, he would dance 
with the beautiful Queen I 

He opened his eyes—but where was every¬ 
body ? Gone, all gone ! 

Around him were hundreds and hundreds 
of tiny figures dancing, singing, flying through 
the air. Many of them were wearing green 
jackets and red caps and were playing—ah, 
the music—the same sweet melody he had heard 
so often ! 


219 


Puck’s Broom 

Could they be—the fairies ? 

Where was he? He seemed to be moving 
along. He was actually in a carriage which 
was being dragged along by any number of 
these tiny people. On the box sat a little 
figure—could it be Tom Tiddler? He guessed 
all in a flash it was—of course, you’ve guessed 
it too—Puck. 

Puck turned round and smiled at George. 
“ Home! We’re going home now. Mother 
wants you. Mind you don’t forget your fortune, 
George ! ” 

On they drove ; through the wood with the 
moon shining down on them above the trees ; 
down the hill past the windmill, which made 
George think of the young dragon who went 
to look for his fortune ; and into the garden. 
Home at last! Alexander met them at the 
gate. 

“ Welcome home, George!” he wuffed. 
“ Hasn’t it been an adventure ? ” 

George sat up straight in the carriage as if 
he had been a prince or a victorious general 
coming home from the war. At last the 
carriage stopped. 

Then George, who felt as if he had been 
in a dream, turned to the fairies and said : 
220 




Another Party 

“ I am pleased to be home again. Thank you 
so much for bringing me all this way. I have 
enjoyed myself, oh, ever so much!” 

Puck took off his cap and bowed. “ You’re 
here : you might be there, but you’re not. Now 
you know all about it! ” 

“ Why, Tom Tiddler said that! ” cried George. 

Before he could say another word the fairies 
were all flying away in the air. Tinkle , tinkle !— 
you should have heard their tiny laughter! 

Puck smiled : “ Don't forget us, little George ! 

Don’t forget us! You are a fairy boy, after 
all, aren't you ? ” and in an instant— whisk /— 
he was gone! 

“ George, darling! ’” Who was that calling 
him ? Could it be Mother ? 

What a long time he must have kept her 
waiting! 


221 





CHAPTER XXI 

Back to the World 


G EORGE, darling !” George rubbed his 
eyes. Ah, it was the beautiful Queen 
kissing him again. 

“ George ! ” Ah, it was the witch this time. 
He knew her voice well enough. She must have 
come back again. It felt like a dream, but 
there were dreams within dreams, and he didn’t 
really know which was the true dream. He 
must be back in his little house again . . . but 
hadn’t the fairies brought him home ? The 
fairies ? Then had he been dreaming about 
these adventures, and, if so, where was he now T ? 
There were really fairies, anyway ; he was quite 
sure about that! 























Puck’s Broom 

And so lie went on thinking and thinking, 
although the voice, such a sweet voice, kept 
repeating “ George, darling ! ” 

What was that ? Alexander’s bark ! “ Wuff! 

Wuff! ” That was all right. Alexander would 
explain everything. 

“ Wuff! Wuff'!” right in his ear. He sat 
up with a start. 

Why, he was in bed in his own room ! There 
was Alexander sitting with his head a little on 
one side looking at him, and thump-thumping 
with his tail on the bed-clothes. 

And there were the beautiful Queen and the 
witch . . . no, it wasn't ... it was Mother 
bending over him and saying “ George, darling ! ” 
and there was Nurse sitting knitting. How odd ! 

“ You have been sound asleep, dear. It was 
Alexander who woke you up at last/' said 
Mother. Nurse said nothing, but she smiled 
such a peculiar smile. Where had George seen 
that smile before ? Could Nurse be a witch ? 

His head was so full of all his wonderful 
adventures that he wanted to begin to tell them 
all about it at once. But Mother said “ No ! ” 
and Nurse said “No!” and Alexander said 
nothing, but just lay on the bed and smiled all 
the time. 

224 


Back to the World 

Oh, it was annoying! Every time he began 
his story Mother said: “ George, dear, you 

mustn’t get so excited,” and Nurse said : “Time 
for your medicine ! ” 

The doctor arrived in his little motor, puff- 
puffing away as hard as ever. 

“ Well, how are we to-day?” he said. “ Feel¬ 
ing a little better, eh ? ” 

“ I’m all right,” answered George. “ I want 
to get up and go out with Alexander! ” 

“H’m! You weren’t so well after you had 
been out yesterday, you know. You should take 
care of yourself.” And the doctor bent over 
him, felt his pulse, looked at his tongue, and 
did all the tiresome things doctors do when we 
aren’t well. 

“ He really seems much better. In fact, you 
can let him go for a walk so long as he doesn’t 
overheat himself,” George heard him say to 
Mother. 

“Doctor!” called George, just as the doctor 
was getting ready to go. “ Doctor, come here ! ” 
And as the doctor came up to the bedside he 
whispered in his ear : “ I’ve been there ! ” 

“ Been there ? ” The doctor was puzzled. 

“ Yes. You remember my asking you if there 
p 225 


Puck’s Broom 

was a real Fairyland, and you said that if I 
really wanted to find the way there I must wish 
as hard as ever I could. Well, I’ve been there, 
and oh, I’ve had such adventures ! ” 

The doctor smiled. “ How many miles to 
Babylon ? ” he asked. 

Now who had said that to George before? 
Why, it was Sir Tristram ! Wasn’t it queer that 
the doctor should say it too ? 

“ Lucky boy ! ” said the doctor, taking up his 
hat again. “ Lucky boy ! We grown-ups have 
no luck at all. I lose my way every time I try 
to get there.” 

“ What a pity ! ” cried George. “ I’m sure 
your house is ready waiting there for you." 

“Well, well,” replied the doctor. “See that 
it’s kept well aired for me when you’re there 
next time, won’t you ? I might manage to get 
there some time, if only by accident.” 

It took George days and days to tell his story 
properly. Mother was never tired of hearing 
it, and asked heaps and heaps of questions ; 
Father said the mere thought of a real live 
dragon, and especially a wicked magician, made 
him shiver and shake. He really did shake all 
over, but perhaps he was only pretending. 

226 


Back to the World 

Nurse nodded her head very wisely, but 
though George asked her if she had ever seen 
a witch, no, she wouldn’t answer anything but: 
“ Perhaps I have ; perhaps I haven’t. ” 

Uncle William was delighted to hear that 
Alexander could talk, and used to read him bits 
out of the newspaper and ask him what he 
thought about the weather, and all kinds of 
nonsense. He loved the part about Tom 
Tiddler, and really could imitate his voice so 
well that George sometimes couldn’t tell the 
difference. 

George often'talked to Mother about his little 
house in the wood. One day when they were 
sitting in the garden he said to her: “ You have 
a house there too, haven’t you ? ” 

“ Yes, I have a little house,” replied Mother. 
“ I have been back to it quite lately. I some¬ 
times forget about it for a time, but I always 
like to go back to it when I am feeling a 
little tired or cross. It is so nice to rest 
there.” 

“ Has Father got a house there ? ” 

“ Yes. I once had a tiny peep at it. It was so 
untidy, just as he likes things to be. Papers and 
books all over the floor ; clothes all unfolded, 

227 


Puck’s Broom 

and a smell of tobacco in every room. He 
called it a ‘ heavenly little house/ ” And 
Mother laughed merrily at the thought. 

“ Did you really see it ? 75 

“Yes, but it was only a peep, you know. 
He has seen the inside of mine once, and he 
said he thought he would have to sleep out¬ 
side in the garden if he ever came to pay me 
a visit. The house was far too neat and tidy 
for a big clumsy man:'’ 

“ Did you ever see the fairies ? ” 

“Long, long ago. You see, once you have 
been back to your little house they know that 
you belong to the ‘ right people , 7 and only pay 
you a visit on very special days.” 

“ Oh, then shall I go back to my little 
house again ? ” asked George. 

“ Of course you will, so long as you don’t 
become too grown-up. If you forget your house 
it will fall into ruins, and by and by you will 
never be able to find it again.” 

“ Ah, that’s what Alexander said ! ” answered 
George. 

There seemed to be no end to the things 
George was learning from his adventures. One 
day he said to Nurse : “ The dragon’s fortune— 
228 



Back to the World 

the little dragon, I mean—lay right under his 
nose, didn’t it ? ” 

“ Yes,” replied Nurse, “ right under his nose.” 

“ Is mine under my nose?” 

“ Yes, if you look for it. It’s been there all the 
time.” Nurse smiled more like a witch than ever. 

George had a long talk with Alexander about 
this. Although Alexander only seemed to wuff- 
ivuff, George was quite certain that he could 
understand him now. 

“ I believe,” said George, with his hands deep 
in his pockets —big pockets he had specially 
asked for—“ I believe Mother’s a piece of my 
fortune, quite a large piece. Father’s another 
and ” — here he hugged Alexander — “ you’re 
another! Of course, I mustn’t forget Nurse,” 
he added. 

Mother was very pleased when she heard this, 
and one day after tea she showed George some¬ 
thing she had found in his room on the day he 
came back from the Once-upon-a-Time Land. 
They were leaves—golden-brown leaves—from 
Tom Tiddler’s sack ! George had almost for¬ 
gotten about them. 

“ I have been keeping these safe for you,” she 
said. “You must not lose them. It would 
never do to throw away your fortune.” 


229 


Puck’s Broom 

“ No ; I would like to have them always, so 
that I shall never forget. Now that I know 
where my fortune is I don’t want to go 
searching for it again, though I did enjoy 
myself/’ 

Mother took a piece of paper out of the pocket 
of her apron. “ You remember that each of the 
guests at your party gave you a present. What 
were they ? Do you know still, or have you 
forgotten ? ” 

George thought for some time. “ I can half 
guess, you know, but I’m not sure/’ 

“ Well, they gave you each a gift which you 
could not buy for gold or jewels. Think of 
what you would like to be ? ” 

“ I should like to be happy,” said George at 
once. 

“ That’s one ! ” 

“ Oh, and healthy too. It’s horrid to be ill, 
and I should like to be brave like Sir Tristram 
and . . . oh, I know, full of fun and laughter 
like the dragon.” 

“ Yes ; there are still some more.” 

“Well, wise like the witch or like Tom 
Tiddler. Oh ”—here he clapped his hands— 
“ unselfish like Alexander ! He's always ready 
to forgive me, even if I hurt him.” 

230 


Back to the World 

Alexander, who was lying at his feet, looked 
up and wagged his tail. 

“ And what did the beautiful Queen give you? 
Her present was the best of all! ” 

“ The best of all ? ” How sweet she had 
looked, the dear Queen, almost—no, just the 
same as Mother! 

“ Have you guessed, dear ? ” said Mother, 
bending down and kissing George. 

In a moment he knew. “ Of course, how 
stupid of me! It’s the last and the best! ” 
And he hugged her and Alexander in turns. 



231 







THE FAIRY MUSIC 


prirto PP rit&rd: 


r r:-ff -ng v . kt fe:: terr- — — . v. ■ an^r:.\ 

/Th4 . "V- 

_Nl c _ i a ^ . ■„ ... y | _^ - 

t/J\VA 

- 3 SP H I f l | . -U- . ...--. 




































CHAPTER XXII 


What the Fairies Thought 

P UCK was sitting on top of his favourite 
toadstool, balancing a blade of grass on 
his nose. The fairies were watching 
him do one trick after another with delight. 
He wasn’t the least bit cross now. 

“ Ker-ek /” croaked the old frog. “You 
make me dizzy.” 

“Are you there still?” said Puck, turning 
a somersault on to the ground. “ I thought 
your cold was no better.” 

“ I haven’t got a cold,” grumbled the frog. 
“ I haven’t always got a cold. Sometimes it’s 
a cold, sometimes it’s not.” 


235 




















Puck’s Broom 

“Well,” said Puck, “you see, he came to 
our party after all.” 

But the old frog didn’t answer. He made all 
kinds of queer noises, blew himself out like a 
balloon, and really frightened the fairies. They 
ran as fast as they could with dewdrops and 
honey-balls—their medicine, you know—to help 
him. 

“ I’m all right! ” he gasped. “ I’m all right. 
I was only laughing.’’ 

This was too much for the fairies. They 
laughed and laughed until they were tired, 
for who had ever heard of an old frog laughing ? 

“What were you laughing at?” Puck asked. 

“ Why, at you , of course ! ” replied the old 
frog. “ Your party was delightful. It quite 
cured my cold. And that boy of yours, George 
Henry, is a nice little boy. I'll teach him to 
swim one day.” 

This was quite a long speech for the old frog, 
and he was quite hoarse for two days after it. 

Puck stood up on a tall thistle and bowed 
solemnly. “ Listen ! ” he said. “ George Henry 
is a wonder-child. I said he was, and so he is. 
If he hadn’t had a large piece of fairyness in 
him he would never, never have come to the 
party at all. His great-great-great-grandmother, 
236 


What the Fairies Thought 

you know, was quite half a fairy. And his 
mother makes up stories about us in her head. 
I knew I was right! ” 

“ You are clever ! ” cried the fairies in chorus. 

“ Am I not a clever Puck ?” he cried, turning 
head over heels. “ Clever, clever, clever !” And 
he danced round and round the old frog with 
all the fairies after him. 

Well, that’s a good thing! All the fairies 
understand that George Henry is a kind of a 
fairy, and quite believe that in time he will 
grow more and more like one, although the 
storks “ Pooh , pooh ! ” whenever they hear this, 
and ask : “ What about us ? He’s our boy ! ” 

George is growing up fast, and will soon be 
a man—and yet that’s not really true, for lie’s 
not a man at all, but just George. 

Alexander said one day—but you will have 
to wait until another time to hear that! 


237 





THE FAIRY GIFTS 

Now take hands, and dance and sing 
Round and round the fairy ring. 

Sing and dance with mirth and joy, 

George, he is a fairy boy ! 

Gifts we gave him. What were they ? 
Happiness the livelong day ; 

Happiness and heart’s delight 
Was the gift of every sprite. 

Better far than sacks of wealth 
Were our gifts of youth and health. 

Health to keep him young and gay 
Was the gift of every fay. 

Gifts we gave him from our store; 

Yet again we gave one more. 

“ Live for others, not yourself,” 

Was the gift of every elf. 

And the last, and quite the best, 

Better far than all the rest, 

This he learned on fairy ground : 

“ Tis Love that makes the world go round ! ” 




' ' 







f 














/ 


/ 












/ 















































































